Letters
by BanditKing
Summary: Five years after the defeat of You Know Who, the Ministry is facing a new horror; a serial killer targeting young, muggleborn women. In the Investigation Department, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy work closely with the Aurors to find the murderer. Things only escalate as the madman starts to send letters along with the victims, all with one main focus; Hermione Granger.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Hermione Granger hurried down the hall, clutching a stack of files to her chest, her frizzy hair crackling with nervous energy and a bit of magic. The Ministry of Magic was in an uproar; after the fall of Voldemort- most still referred to him as You Know Who, but she didn't have the patience for such things- the government had been left in shambles and everyone was in a hurry to keep up.

Five years later, and things were still a mess. Hermione herself could attest to that as she pushed through the fifth floor of the Investigation Department towards the office of one of the worst men she'd ever had the displeasure of working with.

Draco Malfoy.

While the last five years had done wonders for his appearance- even _she_ had to admit that he was attractive- he was still a slimy git, no matter how childish the thought made her.

She turned the corner and nearly ran right into Percy Weasley as he was exiting an elevator. "Oh! Miss Granger!" he exclaimed, moving to grab the papers that fluttered out of her arms, "My apologies."

"You really should watch where you're going, Percy," Hermione said with a kind- yet frustrated- smile. She took the papers he pushed towards her, saying, "and I understand we're at work, but just call me Hermione."

He gave her an awkward smile. "Still working on the Warren case?"

"I not at liberty to discuss it," she shuffled the papers so that they were a little more orderly, "but I'm sure that if you ask Harry, he'll tell you what he can."

Percy nodded, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "Of course. Well it was good to see you- really- but I'm late for a meeting with the minister."

"Well I'll be seeing you sunday then," she said with a smile. "Give my love to the girls."

They parted and she continued down the hall towards Malfoy's office, her heels clicking along the floor. "Granger!"

She froze. _Speak of the devil…._ She turned to find him storming down the hall, his gray eyes dark and intent on her face. She threw her shoulders back and lifted her chin. "Malfoy," she said icily.

He strode past her, yanking open the door the door to his office, impatiently waving her inside. She huffed and hurried in, dropping the files atop his desk, falling into the chair. Malfoy took a seat and eyed her. "What?" She snapped. He continued to stare at her for a long moment.

"You were supposed to be here at noon," he finally drawled. "It's a quarter past."

"The files you wanted took longer than expected," she glared at him as she started to spread them out.

The only response he gave was a bored " _Hm,"_ as he reached forward and took one. He flipped through it and she eyed him for a moment as his eyes scanned the file. He no longer wore his hair gelled back- as he had in school- but let the white locks fall softly against his forehead. He was wearing a dark suit beneath his robes, the contrast with his pale skin not….unpleasant.

She reached for a file before he could catch her analysing him. "Another body was found last night," she said, causing his head to snap up. "The Aurors haven't released any information to the press yet- they don't want to cause panic- but what information I've been giving is… unsettling, to say the least."

He reached forward, snatching the file from her hands, skimming the contents while she scowled at him. "Quite," he agreed. "Have you found any similarities between the victims?"

"All female, young, unattached" she started, then added hesitantly, "all muggleborn."

He leaned back in his chair, setting the file down, his lips pressed into a harsh, flat line. "What is it you're implying?"

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not implying _anything_ , Malfoy. I'm stating the similarities, as you asked me to."

"You believe this to be a hate crime?"

"I never said that," she snapped.

"And yet, that's what you believe it to be?"

Hermione glanced down at the file in front of her. "Look at the facts, Malfoy," she said with a sigh. "The girls are found tortured from the cruciatus, throats _cut_ , wands broken into pieces around them. The murders are violent- obviously- but the shattered wands? Combined with the muggleborn heritage? I just...have a feeling about this."

"You have a _feeling_ ," he drawled, twirling his own wand in his fingers.

"Oh sod off," she snapped, "You know I have a point."

She'd only met with him once before, but she'd expected the long, quiet stare that he'd fixed on her face. She wasn't as uncomfortable as she'd been the last time. She squared her shoulders and met his gaze head on. His lips twitched, as if he was suppressing a smile.

"It's an excellent theory," he finally responded. "I expect you have notes on this?"

Smiling smugly, Hermione shuffled some papers about before finding the right ones and pushing them towards him. He took them, looking amused, eyes scanning the lines. He was a quick reader, like herself, so she didn't have to wait long for his thoughts.

"And you don't suppose it could just be some wanker preying on young woman who tend to walk alone at night?"

"Some wanker that just happens to pick three muggleborn witches at random?" he grinned at the use of her dirty word. She ignored him. "Practically impossible."

He glanced down at the stacks of paper littering his desk. "I'm warning you Granger," he started, "if we spend all of our time investigating this as a hate crime and you turn out to be wrong, we're going to have problems."

"We already have problems," she waved him off, "but I'm confident in this."

"Well," his customary smirk was back, "we best get started on your theory."

Eight hours later, Hermione kicked open the door to her flat, dropping her bag of files to the ground. Toeing off her heels, she shuffled towards her kitchen, determined to make a cup of tea and go through the files once more. _On her own_.

Malfoy was a nuisance. A brilliant nuisance, but one all the same. His notes were insightful, but his commentary unwelcome. After a few hours of silence with the occasional question, he'd grown bored and started to bait her into a conversation. His comments on her frizzy curls had been particularly unwelcome.

It wouldn't bother her so much if his hair hadn't been so bloody immaculate.

There was a loud mewling at her feet and Crookshanks circled her, blinking his round eyes up at her, expectant. Sighing, she crouched down and scooped him into her arms. "Missed me, did you?" she said fondly. She scratched him behind the years as she reached for her wand, muttering one of the only cooking charms she knew, watching as her favorite cup flew from the cupboard. She took a seat at her little table, waiting as her tea was made just as she liked it. Crookshanks settled on her lap and she twisted her hair into a knot on her head before summoning her bag.

Once she had her files spread in front of her and her steaming cup next to her, she settled in for a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"I swear Malfoy, make one more comment about my hair and I _will_ hex you."

He smirked, eyeing her as he wanted to say something else, but refrained. Wise, on his part. Hermione wasn't in the mood. She'd stayed up most of the night reviewing her notes, only to hit dead end after dead end.

"Granger."

"What."

"Your notes make no sense."

Her head snapped up and she held out a hand for the papers, "give it here. Where are you confused?"

He placed the paper in front of her, tapping a long, pale finger. "Muggle means of disposal? The bodies were left at the scene of the crime, in their… state. That hardly screams muggle to me."

"I believe the bodies were moved from the original crime seen, Malfoy." She pushed the papers back towards him.

His eyes narrowed. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I don't. It's a _theory_. Honestly."

He muttered something underneath his breath, but she ignored him, pulling a new set of papers towards her. He leaned back in his chair and scowled at her, tapping his fingers atop the desk. " _Granger_ ," he all but snarled.

"Malfoy."

"If you'd be so kind," he leaned forward, "could you please explain yourself? I'm dying of curiousity."

 _Godric, he got under her skin._ She took a calming breath before speaking. "The bodies were found in fairly public places, in the late afternoon, merely hours after death, which means the victims were murdered during the busiest time of day, just _steps_ from _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?_ And they were never heard _or_ seen?"

"You've got a point there, Granger," he grabbed a paper and scribbled a little note. "I'll elaborate on your theory while you get us coffee."

" _What_?"

He looked up. "Surely you know where the coffee maker is?"

"Get your own damn coffee."

His tongue rolled against the inside of his cheek and he looked to be suppressing a smirk. He pushed to his feet. "Fine," he sauntered towards the door, twirling his wand in his fingers, "I'll go myself."

Hermione leaned back over her notes. "Get me one too."

"Get your own damn coffee."

Malfoy stormed back into the office, looking furious. "Are they out of coffee?" Hermione asked, eyeing his empty hands.

"Potter interviewed a subject," he snapped. "Without letting either of us be present."

" _What_?"

He took a seat and pulled a fresh piece of parchment towards himself and began to write furiously. "I don't care if he's the bloody _boy who lived_ ," he growled to himself as he wrote, "he's going to follow protocol."

"Who are you writing to?"

"The minister," he said. "One of us is going to be present next time he rushes into an interrogation. It's a wonder his head of the office!"

Hermione secretly agreed. Though Harry was her best friend, she often wondered if he should be head of the office. He was hardly the most qualified wizard; he was capable, yes, but he lacked the experience needed to do the job. She hated to agree with Malfoy, but he had a point.

"I'm going to go get his notes from the meeting," _if there even were any._

"Going warn him about my letter, are you?" Malfoy sneered down at the parchment.

Hermione sniffed. "Of course not. He didn't follow protocol."

Malfoy's head snapped up. He looked surprised. It quickly slid into his usual smirk. "Well well well Granger," he drawled, "Taking my side over Potter's? I knew you liked me."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed before leaving the room.

Hermione walked into Harry's office only to find Ron sitting in the seat opposite him. The stress drained from her body and she smiled brightly at him as he stood and gave her a hug. Ron hadn't gone into Ministry work like her and Harry; he'd decided to work at the joke shop with George, a job that seemed to make him really happy.

"Hey Mione," he grinned. "How's your day?"

"Oh, you know," she said, glancing slyly at Harry, "A few idiots are making it difficult to do my job."

"About that," Harry said, looking sheepish, "I-"

"I already heard," she cut him off, eyes narrowing. "You're supposed to bring Malfoy and I into every interview."

He started to speak but she just waved him off, "I know you don't like him, Harry," she said, "but regardless, he's on the case. You have to treat him like he's on the case. When you do not do so, you hurt me as well as him. I need your notes."

"Sorry," he gave her an apologetic grin as he reached for a piece of parchment on his desk, "it just seemed like such a bother…"

"Protocol is _not_ a bother." She said. She took the parchment then turned to face Ron. "So why are you here?"

"I actually came to tell Harry- and you- that sunday dinner has been moved to saturday night."

Hermione frowned. "What for?"

Ron seemed to be bursting with news, his smile wide and his face flushed. "You'll see," the tips of his ears were pink, "Luna and I have an announcement."

A year after the battle of Hogwarts, everyone had been surprised to see Ron and Luna to start dating. Everyone had expected Hermione to be hurt- angry, even- but she'd been thrilled. She loved Ron, and yes, they'd had a moment, but she'd honestly been… relieved. Ron wasn't meant for her.

A year after that, the pair had gotten married. Hermione had been the maid of honor, Harry, the best man.

"Bring _dates_ ," he emphasised, looking at Hermione. She scowled at him. The comment had been directed at her, that much was obvious with Harry being married to Ginny. The boys were worse that women, constantly nagging her about her personal life. After the war, everyone had moved on, paired off and found happiness in each other while Hermione had… gotten a job.

"This again?" She complained. "Honestly Ronald-"

"Bring a date," he said threateningly, "or don't come."

Her jaw dropped. " _What_?"

He grinned. "You heard me. Bring a date, or don't come. You can find out my surprise through the grapevine. I mean it, Hermione. If I have to listen to my mother badger you about settling down, I'll strangle someone. Bring a date. _Merlin's beard_ , bring anyone!"

She walked back into the office. Malfoy was pouring over the documents. He'd shrugged off his robes and suit jacket. He'd loosened his tie and the buttons on his shirt, rolling the white sleeves up to his elbows. His silky hair looked as if he'd recently ran his fingers through it. _Good looking bastard_ , she thought miserably.

Then she got an idea.

"Malfoy," she took her seat, "have you got any plans for saturday?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"A dinner," Malfoy drawled. "At the weasel's."

" _Weasley's_ ," Hermione huffed. "If you don't want to, just say so. There's no need to be a prat about it."

He raised a silvery eyebrow. "Careful Granger, I might say no."

She rolled her eyes.

"Why exactly are you inviting me?"

"Because Ron insisted I bring a date," she rubbed at her eyes. She was now wondering if it had been a bad idea to ask him. Yes, they got on well when working, but to ask him for a favor? His gray eyes wandered over her form, landing on her pink cheeks.

Malfoy made a sound of amusement. "So you asked me? Trying to make the old boyfriend jealous? That's beneath you, Granger."

"I _am not_ trying to make Ron jealous. I'm annoyed he's making me bring a date. I figured I'd bring you to annoy _him_."

He barked out a laugh. "You want me to….annoy him?"

"Yes." She folded her arms across her chest. "I don't want you to mock him or say anything undignified, I just want you to come. Your presence will be enough."

"And what do I get out of it?" He grinned wolfishly.

Her eyes narrowed. "My gratitude."

He snorted. "No."

"What is it you want, Malfoy?"

"I want you to have lunch with me," he said, surprising her. "Every day, for the rest of the week."

"Why?" her eyebrows raised in bewilderment.

"It'll be good for my… less than stellar reputation. Understand me, Granger, we don't have to be friends. It'll just do me some good to be seen in public with you."

Hermione frowned. She was by no means oblivious to the struggle Malfoy had been going through since the fall of Voldemort; the pureblood families wanted nothing to do with him after he came forward in qourt to help Harry imprison several low-key deatheaters, and the opposite hated him for the way he'd been in school.

"Just lunch?" her head tilted to the side, appraising him. He nodded, smirking, twirling his wand in his fingertips. She smoothed her hands on her skirt, glancing up at him through her bangs. He was watching her carefully, but was trying to hide any nervousness behind a smirk. "Alright, Malfoy."

He stood, reaching for his robe. "Alright then. Let's go."

She blinked, surprised. "Now?"

" _Yes_ , Granger. Now. I'm hungry." He shrugged it on. "We can look at Potter's notes later."

She pushed to her feet, reaching for her bag hanging along her chair. After holstering her wand, she followed him out the door. Malfoy led the way and people gave him a wide berth as they moved throughout the ministry. Hermione noticed that many glared at him as he passed, but Malfoy kept his sharp chin tilted up as he sauntered down the halls as if he owned them. She had to hurry to keep up, her kitten heels making it difficult to walk, her skirt tight around the knees. He noticed her falling behind and stopped, letting her fall into step beside him.

Once they entered the floo station, all eyes were on them, curious. It wasn't common knowledge that Malfoy worked with Hermione and they certainly never spent any time together outside of work. "Diagon Alley?" He asked her.

"I'll meet you there," she said, stepping forward and grabbing a handful of floo powder. She tossed it down, spoke clearly, and the green fire engulfed her.

She stepped out of the fireplace into the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was mostly empty. Tom worked behind the counter and an old man nursed a firewhiskey in the corner. The fireplace roared behind her and Malfoy stepped out, brushing soot from his robes. He gave her a smirk.

They headed into Diagon Alley, the street busy with the end of summer. A few people stopped and openly stared as Malfoy ushered her inside a cafe on the corner. It was new, owned by a recent Hogwarts graduate.

"What do you want?" Malfoy asked her, eyeing the crowded restaurant. "I can get your order while you find us a spot to sit."

"Turkey sandwich."

He eyed her with amusement. "Alright."

Her lips twisted to the side of her face when she tried to suppress a smile. She was surprised to find herself enjoying his company. He flashed a smirk at her before he sauntered off towards the line.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione turned to find a young woman with glossy blonde hair standing behind her, holding a notebook and quill. Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

"Amelia Parker," she introduced herself. "I work for Witch Weekly. Would you mind if I had a word?"

"Now's not a very good time," her eyes flitted back to Malfoy. He was chatting with the girl at the counter. "And I don't really do interviews…"

"Oh, I know that!" She interrupted. "I was just hoping for a comment on what you're doing here with Draco Malfoy."

Hermione shifted in discomfort. "I'm sorry, I really can't talk at the moment-"

"Granger," Malfoy approached. "Thought I told you to get a seat?" he glanced at the reporter. "Haven't you got anything better to do?" He raised a condescending eyebrow at her. She flushed with embarrassment.

"Don't be rude," Granger scolded. She was secretly grateful for his interference, but she'd never admit it.

"It's quite alright, Miss Granger," she said, "I'll be in touch, yes? For an interview?"

"Well I-"

"Have a nice lunch!" The reporter waved a hand at them, walking away with swishing hips and a wave of glossy hair.

Hermione turned to Malfoy with a frown. He gave her a self satisfied smile and nodded towards an empty table in the corner. They made their way there, taking a seat. "You think you'd be better at telling reporters to 'sod off' by now, Granger."

"It's not my fault I'm not as rude as you."

"It was rude of her to approach you," he pointed out as their meals materialized in front of them. Malfoy had ordered her tea. She took a sip, surprised to find her favorite. She eyed him over the rim of her cup. He ignored her, reaching for his roast beef sandwich. The reporter had retaken her seat not far from them and was eyeing them. She reached for her wand and cast a muffliato around their table.

"So Malfoy," She asked, setting her cup down. "Have you got any thoughts on the case?"

"I've thought on your theories," he said once he was finished chewing. "And I think you may be right."

"About the victims being muggleborn?"

He nodded. "Which rather concerns me, if I'm being honest," he leaned forward, staring hard at her, "considering the fact that I am currently having lunch with the most famous _muggleborn_ witch in the world."

She straightened. "Are you implying-"

"If you're theories are right," he cut her off, "you are the most logical target. Your murder would be publicized beyond belief- Potter would make sure of that- giving the killer a certain sort of power."

She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. "I would love it if this psychopath came for me," she said passionately. "I've handled far worse."

He leaned towards her, so close that she could see the dark blue rim circling the gray in his eyes. "Granger, I'm not questioning your abilities as a witch- I'd have to be _mad_ to do so- but this is a serious threat. At least mention it to Potter."

She rose an eyebrow at him. "You sound almost concerned for me."

"Of course I am! If you die, who's going to help fix my reputation? It's not like I can have lunch with Weaselbee."

She couldn't help it. She laughed.

 **HIM**

She was sitting in a cafe. He could see her through the glass window. She was wearing a red blouse, the color of freshly spilled blood. It looked ravishing on her. The traitor Malfoy certainly thought so; he could see the Malfoy's eyes wander over her, dark with interest, his lips curling as she laughed. Her lovely face was flushed with happiness and life.

He turned away. He had another girl for today. She would have to wait.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The body was discovered a little after four in the morning. Hermione Granger had been awoken by Harry's patronus flashing through her room delivering the news. She'd climbed out of bed in a rush, accidentally stepping on Crookshanks in the process. He meowed loudly and ran beneath the bed. She muttered apologies as she dressed. She took one look at herself in the mirror and grumbled at her frizzy curls. She struggled for a moment to twist her hair into a messy knot a the base of her neck. Once she was dressed, she flooed to the ministry, directly into Harry's office.

He wasn't there. Instead, Malfoy turned from where he was staring out the window, his eyes sharp. "Granger," he said, "where's Potter?"

"He's probably at the crime scene. We should wait for him in case he has anything he needs to tell us."

He nodded, eyes drifting to the window once more. He looked as good as ever, not a hair out of place, his robes just showing a hint of the slate gray suit he wore underneath. She felt jealous of him; she was exhausted and it showed. There were dark smudges under her eyes from lack of sleep and curls were already starting to escape her bun. She smoothed her hands over her skirt, then cursed herself silently.

She could _not_ become nervous and self conscious around Malfoy just because he was good looking. She was above this! She should've never have gone to that lunch. Their relationship had shifted… She no longer felt hostile towards him; instead, she felt like talking to him, trying to get him to laugh, as if they were friends. She wanted to ask him what his opinion on the new policy that the International Magical Cooperation Department was proposing next week. He'd had such an interesting take on the bill passed last month prohibiting the testing on magical creatures…

"Granger?"

She blinked. "Yes?"

"You're staring."

She flushed. "Sorry. I'm having trouble remaining awake. Haven't been sleeping much..."

He smirked at her, folding his arms and resting against the edge of Harry's desk. "Things keeping you up at night?"

His smug smile lit something in Hermione; call it habit. "Some of us have a heart and lose sleep when people die, Malfoy," she snapped testily

His expression turned dark. He pushed away from the desk, striding towards her, the shadows of Harry's office playing off the side of his face. He stopped in front of her."I want to catch him as much as you do, Granger," he said darkly, voice soft. She took a step back as he advanced on her. His voice was low,"I was trying to be friendly- tease you, even- but if you want to go back to the way things were before, I can do that as well. I can do it in a heartbeat."

She swallowed, looking up at his face. He hovered over her, surrounding her, smelling of leather and something different. "You say that like things had changed."

He smirked, eyes cold. "They had. Deny it all you want, but something's changed between us," his eyes dipped to her mouth, then back to her eyes, "do what you will with that information."

And he was gone.

"Mione!" Harry said upon seeing her. Hermione stood up from the chair, rushing around Harry's desk.

"What happened?"

"This one is… different," he threw his robes across his desk, voice heavy with stress. His wild black hair was as messy as ever and his glasses seemed to be sliding down the bridge of his nose.

A chill crawled up Hermione's back and she folded her arms. "What do you mean, different?"

"There was a letter this time."

" _Letter?_ " She asked in disbelief. "Let me see it."

"It'll be delivered to your office later," he fell into his chair and scrubbed at his eyes, shoving his glasses into his hair in the process. "It was disturbing to say the least. Mckinley is looking over it now in his office, scanning it for traces of magic.

"That's not even the worst of it. The body… it was in a much worse condition than the others."

Hermione took a seat in the chair opposite him. "What do you mean?"

"It was obvious who had done it; traces of the cruciatus, throat cut, wand snapped. But there was also… mutilation. It looked as if the murderer had carved a dozen or so symbols into her skin."

" _Symbols_?" She hissed, leaning forward. She summoned her back and whipped out a paper and quill, shoving them towards him. "Can you draw it?"

Wearily he nodded, tugging the parchment towards him. He scribbled a quick, crude drawing, then spun it so that it faced her. She frowned. Triangular, the bottom line slashed through the top two at an awkward angle.

"It's an _A_ ," she muttered.

Harry frowned, twisting his head to get a look at it. "Doesn't look like an _A_ to me."

"I'm telling you," she rubbed her bottom lip with her thumb, lost in thought, "it's an _A._ "

"Do you want to discuss your theories with Malfoy?" Harry asked. "The pair of you are supposed to have a meeting with the aurors discussing your theories next week, aren't you? The minister is going to have our heads if we don't find this guy and fast."

Hermione stood, not meeting Harry's eyes as she reached for her bag. After the conversation with Malfoy, she didn't really want to discuss him. "I'll speak with him about my ideas," she shouldered her bag, "we'll help you catch him, Harry. Malfoy may be a git, but he's smart."

"Malfoy will never be as smart as you, no matter how hard he tries," Harry gave her an encouraging smile. "So don't worry too much. If anyone finds this guy, it's going to be you, Hermione."

She was sure he'd meant his words to be encouraging, but they just added to the weight on her already heavy shoulders.

Normally, she went straight to Malfoy's office. They'd been working together for a few weeks now and had fallen into the routine of working in his office. It was quieter, in a more secluded part of the department and fewer people walked by. If they were to get into a shouting match or -on the rare occasion- when they started throwing hexes, nobody was bothered. But today, Hermione enclosed herself in her office and waited for the letter.

Malfoy had come looking for her.

"Granger!" He bellowed from outside, pounding on her door. She eyed the door as if it had offended her. She hoped he'd go away. When he didn't, she waved her wand at the door, irritated that he'd made a scene. A few people loitered outside, looking interested. Malfoy stormed in, kicking the door shut behind him.

"What?" She snapped.

"You were supposed to come to my office after your meeting with Potter."

She turned her gaze towards the window. "I don't appreciate you making a scene, Malfoy. You could've sent me a note."

He glowered at her. "What did Potter say."

"I'm waiting for the evidence from the crime scene."

"And he said nothing about it?" he looked irritated with her. He strode forward, resting his hands on her desk, leaning forward. His white hair was falling into his eyes. She tried to ignore the twist in her stomach at the what his nearness was doing to her.

"I don't appreciate you barging in here, Malfoy," she pushed to her feet, "and I certainly don't appreciate the way you cornered me in Harry's office earlier. You are not my superior, so stop acting as if you are!"

His eyebrows shot up, disappearing into his white locks. His usual smirk slid onto his face, but this time there was something… suggestive there. "I rather like when you boss me around, Granger," his voice took on a soft quality, "it's as if we're back in school."

She opened her mouth to say something just as a letter appeared in the air in a sharp spin, landing on the desk like a top, twirling on one sharp corner before tipping and landing on the desk. The moment between them was ruined and Malfoy leaned backwards as Hermione reached for the thick envelope.

She shook out the contents and they spread across her desk. She gaped at the photographs. The woman had been horribly disfigured, the crude- nearly illegible- letter _A_ carved into her skin. Malfoy cursed, reaching for a photo.

"He's escalating," he said.

"It's probably because Harry won't let anything into the papers," Hermione said absentmindedly. Harry hadn't wanted to cause a panic. The wizarding world was still trying to find peace after the fall of Voldemort and he didn't think that publicizing such a vicious crime would do any good.

Hermione hadn't agreed.

"This is madness," Malfoy spat. "Potter can't expect to keep this quiet for much longer. Look at this woman! And what on earth does this letter _A_ mean?"

She turned sharply towards him. "You think it's an _A_ as well?"

"Of course I do," he frowned at her, the picture hanging forgotten in his hand. "Do you not?"

"No, I came to the same conclusion." She started to shuffle the pictures out of the way, scanning the auror report quickly before finding what she really was looking for. She fell into the chair, holding the parchment, her heart sinking and her stomach twisting as she read.

"What's that?"

"A letter," Hermione mumbled, reading through it once more.

Malfoy moved to stand behind her to read over her shoulder. "From?"

"The killer."

 _To whom it may concern,_

 _I was born with blood that others crave._

 _Blood that is better_

 _Than the woman you seek to avenge._

 _I cannot help the need to kill_

 _No more than a poet_

 _With the inspiration to sing._

 _I hope the infamous Miss Granger can solve my puzzle._

 _I wish her luck._

"He _threatened_ you?" Malfoy reached forward and plucked the paper from her fingers.

"It wasn't quite a threat."

"It most certainly is a threat!" Malfoy shot her a look of disbelief. "And Potter didn't mention this to you in his office? Has he lost his mind?"

"He mentioned the letter," she picked at a piece of lint on her skirt, not meeting Malfoy's intense gaze, "but he didn't think to tell me that I was addressed personally."

"Of course he didn't," Malfoy snarled. "This psychopath is threatening you and Potter doesn't even mention it? He's a bloody idiot, Granger, I don't care if he's your friend."

Hermione said nothing, reaching for the letter. Malfoy released it without a fight. She started to gather them into a pile, shuffling them until they were neat enough to slide back into the envelope. She stood. "Let's go back to your office and look over this."

He eyed her. After a long moment of staring, he tore his gaze away and strode towards the door, yanking it open. He stood there, waiting for her. She hurried through the door, muttering an advanced locking charm on her office that had Malfoy raising his eyebrows. She started towards his office, but something caught her eye. A young woman was sitting at her desk reading a magazine, her face hidden as she held it up close to her face. Hermione gaped at the cover of witch weekly.

 _Blossoming Office Romance between war hero Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy_

Beneath the caption was Hermione and Malfoy sitting in the cafe, leaning in towards each other, laughing and smiling, looking much to interested in one another.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Malfoy wasn't bothered by the magazine. Hermione paced the length of his office as he read the article, an amused smirk on his face. " _Wizarding London's most eligible bachelor…_ I like that," he mused. He continued to read, " _has taken a fancy to war hero Hermione Granger…_ " He made a noncommittal hum and continued, " _though some wonder if it's appropriate, as the pair are colleagues, their department working closely with the Aurors Department…_ daft bint didn't do her research, we are a _branch_ of the Auror Department… Skeeter was much better than this writer."

"That's all you have to say?" Hermione cried. "This wasn't supposed to happen! We were supposed to have lunch- as _fake_ friends- and now all of London thinks we're a couple?" She snatched the paper from him and pointed at the picture. "Did you _have_ to lean in so close to me?"

He leaned over her shoulder to look at the paper and she stiffened. "It looks as if you're leaning in as much as I am, Granger," he pointed out. "Were you trying to see if my eyes had changed colors? Worry not, they're still gray."

"This isn't funny."

"No, it's not funny. Yet."

She looked up to frown at him. "What do you mean 'yet'?"

He started to chuckle. "It'll be bloody hilarious when Potter and Weasley see it."

Hermione swore.

…

"Granger, I had a thought."

Hermione looked up from her copy of the letter. She'd already scribbled _pureblood_ next to the first three lines, then made a note to make a list of Voldemort sympathisers that had managed to avoid Azkaban. "Yes?"

"I think it's safe to assume that this means something," he slid a close up photo of the woman's wounds towards her. "But it's the first body that has any _noticable_ marks. What if the murderer had made this symbol on the bodies before but since Potter never had the bodies _physically_ examined, it was never seen? And what if this caused the killer to become frustrated, leading in the third victim having much more visible markings?"

Hermione blinked at him in shock. She hadn't even _considered_ the fact that Harry might neglect to have a physical examination of the body. It was such a muggle idea; the magical tests would tell them what curses were used and the gaping wound on the woman's throats hadn't needed investigating…

"We should speak to Harry about this," she stood up so quickly she accidentally knocked off her copy of the letter she'd been making notes on. Malfoy leaned down and picked it up before she could grab it. His eyes scanned her notes and he frowned.

"What's this about 'ties to Voldemort', Granger?"

She straightened. "We now know the killer is targeting muggleborns. His letter implies that he believed in Voldemort's movement. Pursuing known prejudice purebloods is the logical direction to take the case."

He stood. "You do understand," his voice was icy, "that all of the known Voldemort sympathisers were acquitted? That the ones that escaped imprisonment were a bunch of _kids_ at the time of their involvement, most of them coerced into following?"

"I understand-"

"You understand nothing!" He cut her off fiercely. "Did you know that I was forced to plot Dumbledore's murder in order to save my mother? Wait, you _did_ know that. You were at my trial. Well Granger, let me tell you something you didn't know. I lived with that… _psychopath_ in my home, and my father did nothing to protect me or my mother from him. Did nothing to stop the torture and fear that we lived _every single day_. Voldemort would've made sure that my mother's death was…. Terrible to say the least, had I failed. If Snape had not intervened, I would've pitched myself off of the Astronomy tower instead of meet what faced me."

He strode forward, backing her once more against a wall. Her fingers inched towards her wand. "And now, years later, I face hatred and isolation from the wizarding community, as do many others like me. And you want to now put them through _even more_? Just because of the disgusting ideals and actions of their parents?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line. "I wasn't accusing you, or anyone else of anything, Malfoy," she said softly. "I'm sorry for you-"

"Don't you dare pity me," he said harshly.

"Malfoy, I-"

There was a knock on his door.

Malfoy pulled away from her. He looked disheveled, his eyes dark, lips twisted into a scowl as he strode towards the door, yanking it open. " _What_?" He snapped.

"Is Hermione here?"

Hermione started at Harry's voice. She straightened her skirt self consciously before stepping into view of the doorway. "I'm here," she said.

Harry's green eyes narrowed at her. "Can I have a word?"

"Of course," she stepped outside and shut the door in Malfoy's face. Harry frowned at her, looking uncomfortable as he adjusted his glasses. Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "What?"

"Did you see the Witch Weekly?"

"Now Harry, I didn't know you subscribed to that trash," she said, cheeks red.

"I don't," he said gruffly. "Gin does. She sent me a note when she read it. Are you really dating Malfoy?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course not. We work together."

"Why did you go out to lunch with him?"

"We're colleagues," she rose an eyebrow at him, "and so what if Malfoy and I have become friendly. We're not in school anymore, Harry."

He shifted uncomfortably under her stare. "We may not be in school anymore, but he's still a git," he pointed out. "Have either of you made any progress on the case?" he asked, changing the subject.

"As a matter of fact we have. Why didn't you tell me that I was mentioned by name in the letter?"

"Oh," he looked at his feet. "That. Well I didn't know how to. I figured you'd just read it and find out that way. I have mentioned it to the Minister. I'm waiting for him to write back to me."

"And what do you expect him to say?" she frowned. "He might try to take me off the case."

"That might not be a bad idea."

Her eyes rounded. "Are you being serious? I'm the best on your team! You can't actually think that taking me off the case is a good decision."

"I don't know," he sighed, "I just know that there's a lot of pressure on me to solve this case."

"You need to take it public," she said. "Young women need to be aware of the danger. It's been five years, Harry. People can handle some bad news. Voldemort is gone. We can't hide this case because of what he did to all of us."

Harry rubbed at his scar, looking lost in thought. "I'll think about it. You're probably right, as always," he grumbled.

She gave him a smile. "Thanks Harry. I'll see you tomorrow? For the dinner?"

He nodded. "Maybe you can as Collins in the Department of Mysteries. I hear he's a decent bloke."

Feeling too guilty to tell him she'd already asked Malfoy, she gave him a weak smile. "Thanks, Harry, I'll think about it."

"Okay," he looked relieved. "I'll see you then. And please, be careful. I don't like that this psychopath knows you're working the case. I'd come over to put wards on your flat but you've always done them better than me."

"I'll add some stronger ones tonight," she reassured him. Harry left, looking exhausted, rubbing at his scar as he disappeared down the hall.

…

Malfoy was sitting at his desk when she re entered his office, writing furiously. He didn't look up from his work as she took her seat. She stared at him for a moment before turning to her work. If he didn't want to discuss the conversation from earlier, she wouldn't address it.

He slid his parchment towards her. "There's your list."

Surprised, she skimmed the list, eyebrows furrowing. "I thought you didn't want to go this direction?"

"Those are the men you should take a look at," he said, ignoring her question. He had an icy mask on his face as he stared at her. She reached for a quill and starred three of the names. He eyed her, but said nothing. She stopped at the last one, tilting her head to the side. _Blaise Zabini_.

"Malfoy, isn't this your frie-"

"Lunch, Granger?" Draco pushed to his feet, cutting her off in the middle of her sentence, heading for the door. Hermione hurried after him.

…

"Do you really think he could've done it?" They were sitting at the same table they'd had lunch at the previous day and after searching for reporters, Hermione had started to ask once more about Zabini. Malfoy dodged every question.

Malfoy frowned at her over his coffee cup. "Of course I don't. But you wanted your list and now you have it."

Hermione picked at her sandwich. She didn't have much of an appetite after reading the letter. It had unsettled her so badly that she could barely keep down the sips of coffee she continued to take. "The dinner's tomorrow," she changed the subject.

His silvery eyebrow shot up. "And to think, I almost forgot." He mused. "Our first Weasley dinner… as a _couple_ ," he added sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, sod off, Malfoy."

"Such language, Granger," he tutted. "Tell me," he leaned in close across the table. "Do you use filthy words in bed as well?"

She shot back in her chair, back ramrod straight. "Don't be crude, Malfoy."

"Isn't it something we should discuss?" he asked innocently. "I mean, while I can see you being rather bossy in bed, I can also see you being absolutely _wild_ -"

"Enough!" she hissed, looking around for reporters. "I really hate you, you know that?" she reached for her coffee and scowled at him. "You're mood swings are really getting old. One moment you're… _flirting_ with me and the next you're boiling with rage. It's exhausting."

"Oh Granger, you noticed my flirting? I was worried you wouldn't catch on." He flashed a grin at her.

Her eyes rolled once more. "I'll pick you up tomorrow at four."

"I'll open my floo for you," he reached for his sandwich. "Don't abuse the access."

"As if I would."

He flashed a smile at her once more. "Oh come off it, Granger. Everyone knows you want to tear my robes off with your teeth."

She gaped at him. "You are unbelievable Malfoy."

"I know," he smirked and took a bite of his sandwich.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Hermione paced in front of her fireplace, chewing on her lip, occasionally stopping to glance at the container floo powder. She normally just wore her work clothes to these dinners, but today she'd put on her best dress. It was dark blue and just casual enough that she didn't look like she was trying too hard. She had even worked her hair into a rather pretty french twist. She'd held a hardly used bottle of mascara in her fist when she'd stopped and asked herself… what was she doing?

She wasn't stupid enough to try to lie to herself. She had been trying to look nice. For Malfoy. She hadn't realized when she'd started to find him attractive until she was standing in her bathroom, clutching the mascara bottle and gaping at herself in the mirror. Malfoy had flirted with her, sure, but those were just jokes. It wasn't as if Malfoy… fancied her. Exactly the opposite. They had to work together. They were barely friends, if that.

She should just cancel. It's not like Malfoy would care either way. He'd gotten what he wanted from their deal. She glanced at the clock. She was five minutes late. If she did go to Malfoy's now, he'd make some comment about her tardiness, she just knew it.

She really should just cancel.

Summoning every bit of her Gryffindor courage, she strode to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of powder and flooed to Malfoy's. The green powder swirled around her and dissolved, Malfoy's apartment materializing in front of her.

She stepped into his living room, blinking in surprise. She'd expected….she didn't know what she'd expected. A Slytherin common room, she supposed. It was a dark, masculine apartment, with sleek leather sofas facing the fireplace, the wall opposite her lined with bookshelves, the only light coming from a room down the hall. "Malfoy?" She called hesitantly, stepping from the floo.

"You're late Granger," his voice echoed from the room.

And there it is….she thought with a roll of her eyes. Malfoy sauntered into the room, holding a tumbler glass with dark amber liquid, his shirt unbuttoned at the neck. He looked great in the low light.

She should've canceled.

"You look ravishing Granger," he said, giving her a suggestive smile and a wink.

She definitely should've canceled.

"Drinking, Malfoy?"

"I needed a drink if I'm going to survive a dinner with a group of Weasleys."

She rolled her eyes. "Are you ready?"

He set his glass down on a nearby table and strolled past her towards the fireplace. He stood by the floo powder container and waited.

She strode forward, reached past him and took a handful, stepping into the fireplace. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest, fixing her with a stare that made her breath catch. She swallowed nervously and held up her hand, saying- as clearly as she could- "the burrow!"

She stepped out of the fireplace, coughing on the puff of soot that greeted her. So many people came through the Weasley fireplace that it was impossible to keep it clean. The room was full of the Weasley family, the familiar chatter greeting her as Luna bounded towards her, a frowning Ron on her heels.

"Mione, I thought I told you-"

The floo sounded, cutting him off, and they all turned to watch Malfoy step onto the carpet, brushing soot off of his shoulder before his hands sliding into his pockets. Ron gaped like a fish as Malfoy came to stand next to Hermione, smirking. "Hello Weasley."

Ron blinked. "Malfoy?" He said, as if he couldn't quite figure out what Draco Malfoy was doing standing in his mother's home.

"Draco!" Luna surprised them all by saying. She reached forward and took his shoulders, leaning to noisily kiss each of his cheeks. She released him and leaned back, giving him a dreamy smile. Malfoy looked as dumbstruck as Ron.

"Lovegood," he cleared his throat, inclining his head in a nod.

"It's Weasley now," she shot an adoring smile at Ron, who blushed. "I'm so glad you came with Hermione," She looped her arm through his, leading him away as she spoke, "Tell me Draco, you have a veela somewhere in your family tree don't you…?"

Malfoy shot Hermione a helpless look over his shoulder as Luna lead him out into the backyard, the entire Weasley family gaping after them as they disappeared out the door. Hermione was surrounded in seconds by Harry and Ron. Ginny caught Hermione's eye, and seeming to realize what was coming, started to usher everyone outside as well.

"I thought you said the two of you weren't dating?" Harry glanced out the window. Luna was now showing Malfoy the gnomes. He was laughing at something she was saying, looking slightly more comfortable than he had minutes ago.

"We're not."

Ron was still gaping. "Mione," he said, voice strained, "when I said bring a date, I meant bring… well, bring a good bloke!"

Hermione stiffened. "And what exactly qualifies someone as 'good', Ronald?"

"Hermione… I know you want to forget the war-"

"Don't you bring up the war as a way to justify your petty dislike." She snapped. "Draco was acquitted of all charges."

"So now it's Draco?" Ron scowled at her, his face flushing with anger.

"Ron, Hermione can bring- or date- whoever she likes." Harry surprised both of them by interjecting. "Frankly, I'm relieved."

Ron rounded on Harry. "What do you mean you're relieved! She brought Malfoy, Harry. Malfoy! Or am I the only one that noticed that he's outside looking at gnomes with my wife?"

"That's right, Ron. I'm relieved." Harry's green eyes slid the window and landed on the pair. "It's been five years. You're married. I'm married. Godric, I've got kids. Hermione's got her cat."

"Good job at making me sound pathetic, Harry," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Well, you are rather pathetic."

Hermione shared a little smile with her best friend. Ron stared at both of them, flabbergasted, his cornflower blue eyes full of disbelief. "Couldn't you have brought anyone else?" He grumbled..

Hermione caught a glimpse of Malfoy through the window. Luna had caught a gnome- the little creatures liked her against all odds- and it now stood atop her head, blowing raspberries at an amused looking Malfoy. Hermione should've brought someone else; she was growing dangerously fond of Malfoy and watching him treat someone as eccentric as Luna with such patience was not helping.

"Let's go outside," Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder and started to steer him towards the door. "You still have that big announcement for us. I've put all my money on a new joke shop in Hogsmeade, so you better not let me down."

Hermione followed after them, heading towards Malfoy and Luna. His eyes caught hers and he looked relieved. Luna saw Ron and hurried after him, the gnome clutching on her hair so that he wouldn't tumble off her head.

"You left me," he said accusingly.

"Only with Luna," Hermione smiled up at him.

He combed his fingers through his white locks, pushing his hair up off his forehead, and Hermione had to force her eyes away from him. You did not find him attractive, she repeated in her head over and over again.

Harry's three year old son came barrelling out of nowhere, crashing into Hermione's legs. He would've knocked her over if not for Malfoy's hand on her elbow, catching her, his fingers pressing into her arm. He held her steady for a moment before releasing her. She swallowed nervously before brushing a curl from her face as she bent over to scoop up the little boy.

"You need to be more careful," she tweaked James's nose fondly.

"Aunt Mione," he grabbed a handful of her cheek, smiling toothily up at her with Ginny's brown eyes. She smiled at him then caught Malfoy watching her. His lips were pursed, gray eyes focussed on the little boy in her arms before sliding up to her face.

"What?" she asked.

Malfoy's eyes dropped back to James, who was trying to pull curls out of Hermione's bun. "He looks like Potter… but without all of the self righteousness."

Hermione laughed. "You're calling Harry self righteous? You of all people?"

"You have a biased opinion," he sniffed. "I can't help that your opinions have been ruined by Potter."

"My name is James Potter!" James exclaimed then smiled, dropping his head to rest on Hermione's shoulder. His little hand started to tug at her chin. She pulled him a bit closer to her. Hermione had always worried that she wouldn't connect well with children- that they'd find her boring- but Harry's son had taken to her in an instant and her to him. Were she ever to have children, she hoped they'd be just like James.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter," Malfoy said in a serious voice that made the little boy giggle. "My name's Draco."

"Draco is a funny name."

Hermione hid her laugh with a cough. Malfoy smirked at her. "It is, isn't it," he leaned forward, as if he was going to tell James a secret, "but it means Dragon."

James's eyes went round. "It does?"

"Oh yes, James!" Hermione smiled down at him. "It's latin, just like our spells, sweetheart."

"Aunt Hermione does the best spells!" James lifted his head to say proudly. Hermione felt her chest swell with love for the little boy in her arms. She was James's favorite aunt and he made no secret of it, much to her delight.

"Oh believe me, I know," Malfoy grinned, "she loves to practice them on me when she's angry."

"If you weren't such a prat all the time, I wouldn't have to!"

Malfoy's lips pulled into a wide, charmingly crooked smile, "what would you do to me if I wasn't angering you, Granger? You've got to get rid of all that pent up energy some way, wouldn't you say?"

She blinked up at him.

"Why'd you call Aunt Hermione 'Granger'?" James piped up, reminding them both he was there.

Before Malfoy could respond, Hermione knelt down to put James on the ground. "How about you go ask Aunt Luna to teach you how to catch gnomes?"

He ran off without another word. Everyone was wandering about as Arthur directed the giant table with his wand towards the flattest area of the yard the chairs following behind him in an assembly line. With a flick of his wand they all flew into their correct place.

"So Granger," Malfoy stood just behind her, his chin brushing her shoulder as he talked into her ear, making her tense, "Have you thought of any other ways to release that energy you've got building up?"

"I think that hexing you will suffice," she said with a grin and a raised eyebrow. He chuckled, shaking his head, nearly brushing his cheek against her face. She suddenly realized how close they were. She took a step back from him. He raised an eyebrow, taking a step towards her, an obvious challenge. He was toe to toe with her now, his blonde hair hanging in his silver eyes, and she felt rooted there, unable to move. He dipped his head towards her…

"Mione! Malfoy!" Harry called from the table, making Hermione jump in surprise, "come on."

Hermione took a quick step back. Malfoy smirked at her and started to walk towards the table. "Come on Granger," he muttered as he stepped past her, "can't keep them waiting."

She bit her lip and scolded herself. Had Malfoy tried, she would've let him kiss her. She needed to get this dinner over with. Malfoy's teasing was doing things to her. She followed after him, falling into a seat between him and Ginny.

"Mione," Ginny leaned towards her. Her dark red hair had been piled atop her head and her brown eyes were glittering, "I thought you told Harry you and Malfoy weren't dating?" She whispered.

"We're not," Hermione said. She stiffened when she felt Malfoy's arm snake over her shoulders.

"Oh come off it," he leaned towards them. She hadn't thought he'd heard them, but obviously he had, "Granger is mad for me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and attempted to move his arm without much success. He grinned evilly at her. She chose to ignore him, turning towards Ginny once more. "We are not," she shot him a dirty look over her shoulder. He just grinned.

"He seems to think you are," Ginny shot Malfoy an amused grin and the blonde winked. Winked. Hermione looked at both of them in disbelief, falling back into her chair. Ginny patted Hermione's hand before turning to talk to Harry on her other side.

Malfoy's arm was still draped along the back of his chair and his fingers tapped on her shoulder. She turned to look at him disapprovingly. "Yes?"

He leaned in close to her, "I think the Weaslette likes me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're being ridiculous, Malfoy. Absolutely delusional."

"Well Granger- oh I'm sorry, Hermione-" he shot an amused glance in James's direction, "I should tell you something. Weaslette might not like me, but you do."

"You're mad, Malfoy," she reached for her glass of wine and eyed him over the edge of the rim, "I tolerate you, at best."

His answering smile was sharklike and devastating. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He leaned closer, "Careful, Hermione," her name sounded heavy and soft like Ogden's Firewhiskey rolling off his lips, "you might convince me and then regret it."

"I might start to return your 'interest' and then you'll regret it."

His lips pulled into a slow smile. "Now how could I regret that?"

 **HIM**

He was at her apartment. The Malfoy boy. He'd stepped from her floo, hands in his pockets and shoulders back, looking at the room as if he owned the place. She strode past him into the kitchen. She was wearing that blue dress he'd seen in her closet.

She looked ravishing.

He stared hard at the glass. He had to go accomplish his task soon, but he didn't want to leave the Malfoy boy in her apartment. He didn't like how the blonde haired little freak looked at her. As if she was a sunset and he'd never seen color before.

He didn't like that. At all.

She wasn't Malfoy's.

She was his.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I should've been doing this all along, but I - _obviously-_ don't own Harry Potter. I know, shocking.

Also, this chapter is rated M.

That means smut, people. You've been warned.

-Bandit XX

 **Chapter Seven**

Ron was going to be a father. And Hermione was _thrilled._ Luna had been practically beaming when they finally told their secret. The entire family had exploded happily around them, rushing to congratulate them and ask questions. Even Malfoy had smiled, his fingers lazily brushing against Hermione's bare shoulder. She hadn't stopped him.

As everyone began to leave, Hermione had turned to Malfoy, and before she could stop herself asked, "do you want to come back to my flat?"

His eyebrows had shot up.

"To discuss the case," she added. He smirked but nodded, following her to the fireplace. She gave a brief goodbye to Harry and Ginny- Ginny hugged her tight to whisper in her ear, demanding that she tell her what was going on with her and Malfoy- then congratulated Ron and Luna, who beamed happily. Malfoy called a congratulations to Luna just before disappearing into the floor.

"You know Hermione, I helped make this baby too," Rona said pointedly at the one sided congratulations from Malfoy. Luna had patted her husband's hand and pecked him on the cheek, telling him, _Don't be so sensitive._

And that was how Hermione ended up with Draco Malfoy snooping through her living room.

"I can't believe that they like you," Hermione said, shaking her head in disbelief as she walked back from her kitchen. Malfoy stood by her bookshelves, leaning forward to read the titles, his finger tapping his bottom lip thoughtfully.

"You sound so surprised," he glanced at her over his shoulder.

She folded her arms across her chest, suppressing a smile. "I _am_."

Malfoy stood up straight, shoving his hands into his pockets, eyeing her. "You like me, Granger. There's no denying it."

"And if I do?" She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. His head titled to the side, the shadows playing off of his face, his eyes dark. He took a step towards her.

"Are you hungry?" She asked.

"No." He took another step towards her.

She glanced at the kitchen. One more step and he'd be dangerously close to her. "Thirsty?" Her voice was embarrassingly high. He shook his head once and took another step towards her.

"Well I need a drink," She spun and headed to the kitchen. She heard him follow after her and she flipped on the light over the oven. It cast the room in a soft glow. Her kitchen was simple with white cabinets and light blue walls, a wide island counter in the center, and a small round table in the corner with three chairs. A forgotten teacup was left on the countertop. She busied herself with putting it away.

"So Granger," Malfoy leaned against her doorway with folded arms and a smirk, "you said you wanted to discuss the case?"

"Right!" She said as she set to heating a pot of tea. "The letter."

He stepped into the kitchen, eyeing Crookshanks warily as he ran past him and hid beneath the table. "What a lovely… cat." He drawled.

"Oh bugger off."

He laughed, coming to lean against the counter, watching as she pulled out a box of tea from her cabinet. "So the letters." He prompted.

"I think that if another attack happens, we'll find another letter," She found a clean cup and set it on the counter before turning to Malfoy, "Do you want something?" She asked again.

"I'll have some earl gray if you have it." He said. "Tell me more of your theory."

She grabbed another cup. "Each murder escalates," she said softly. "And the letter was the first, not the only."

He watched her as she poured a cup of earl gray and slid it his way. She pulled out her sugar and watched as he scooped a heaping spoonful into his cup. She raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged. "I like it sweet."

"I never would've guessed," she mused as she poured herself her own cup.

"About the letter," he leaned against the counter, resting his chin on his knuckles, staring up at her, "I think you're right. I also don't like the fact that he addressed you by name, Granger. What wards do you have up around this place?"

"Strong ones."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I still don't like this, Granger."

Hermione leaned sideways against the counter and folded her arms. "You don't like this," she repeated.

"I don't like the fact that a serial killer has shown an interest in you," he said seriously, straightening so that he stood over her. "You're the smartest witch of our age and have served in a war. Now is not a time to be careless!" His hands rested on the counter as he leaned towards her, boxing her in with his arms. "Granger, I need you to be smart about this!"

"I _am_ being smart about this, Malfoy," she shot back, "I don't know why you care so much! We're friends- no, we're _colleagues_ -"

He laughed, " _Colleagues_ Granger?" he leaned in towards her, "I'm tired of explaining myself; we are _more_ than just colleagues, and," his eyes dipped to her mouth and her breath caught in her throat, "What I feel for you Granger is _far_ from friendly."

Her eyes rounded, and she opened her mouth to speak. Before she could Malfoy closed the space between them, sealing his lips over hers, her back pressing into the edge of her counter. His lips were soft and pressed over hers, his hands coming up to frame her face. He stayed there, as if waiting for a sign to continue. Just as she started to feel him pulling back, Hermione let her mouth fall open and her bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as he groaned and pressed into her more firmly.

She found her arms circling his waist as one of his hands slid into her hair, the thumb of his other hand stroking her jaw. He was an _excellent_ kisser. He kissed her hungrily and she wondered why they'd waited weeks of working together to do this. His leg pressed between hers until they were a tangle of limbs. His teeth tugged on her bottom lip and she sighed. He grinned, lips curling as his hands reached for her waist. She made a sound of surprise as he lifted her and sat her on the counter, coming to stand between her hips as he kissed her senseless.

His lips wandered down her neck and his fingers were working on the buttons down the back of her dress. She couldn't find it in herself to stop him. He was such an amazing kisser, and he was just so warm, and it had been so _long_ since someone's lips had brushed her skin so religiously…

The straps of her dress slid down her shoulders and she caught it nervously. He just brushed her hands aside and the fabric fell, pooling at her hips. Malfoy's lips brushed the skin of her collar bone. She moved her hands to his shirt, unbuttoning furiously, because if she was going to be undressed, so was he.

He shrugged out of his shirt and it fell to the ground. He was pale in the dim light and _Godric_ was he beautiful. He'd filled out since his days at school, his body sharp and smooth with muscle. His lips closed around her nipple and she made a soft, mewing sound. He pressed her back against the counter and tugged on her dress, pulling it out from under her hips.

"Fuck, Granger," he murmured once she was laid out atop her counter wearing only her lacy white panites. He kissed her thigh, "you're so lovely."

She wiggled a little, lifting her head. Sometime during their kissing her hair had escaped its constraints and had spilled over her shoulders. She was trying to decide whether to stop him or to beg him to kiss her _more_.

He stood up, leaving her cold. Maybe he'd changed his mind. It was just as well; she wouldn't have to make the decision if this was a good idea or not, and yet she felt a pang of disappointment.

That disappeared as he grabbed her panites and pulled them down her legs. She didn't miss him stuffing them into his pocket before he tossed one of her legs over his shoulder. She squirmed, suddenly nervous. He pinned her hips to the countertop with one hand while he leaned forward towards the juncture of her thighs. She made a low noise in her throat as he gave her one slow lick.

"Is this okay Granger?"

"Wha- oh, I guess."

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh. She shivered when he gave a light suck. She waited for him to do something, but he stopped. She lifted her head up, feeling dizzy and desperate, only to find him staring at her. "Why'd you stop?" She mumbled, lifting herself up onto her elbows.

"Tell me what you want, Granger."

She flushed. She'd never dirty talked before; she'd only been with two other men, and those had been fairly vanilla experiences. She bit her lip, then, in a soft voice, asked, "Malfoy, please kiss me."

He brushed his lips along her stomach, just beneath her belly button. "Kiss you where? You need to be a little more specific, lovely."

She nearly sighed at the term 'lovely'. She'd always considered herself rather plain, but Malfoy obviously liked what he saw if his words were any indication. "Everywhere."

"If the lady insists," he said with a smile in his voice as his kisses trailed lower. She jumped when one of his fingers slid inside her just as he sucked on her clit. She moaned loudly and she felt his answering groan against her.

She was reaching her peak, and quickly; Malfoy's tongue and fingers were doing wild things to her. Her entire body felt coiled like a spring, her toes curling. Her hips started to move of their own accord and he pinned a hand against her stomach to keep her pressed to the counter. She felt like sobbing; waves crashed on her and the pleasure grew so intense she started to beg, saying things like, "oh _please_. Please, Malfoy."

He obliged, his fingers curling inside her and rubbing that perfect spot and she fell into her release, her back arching off of the counter just as a flash of light came from her window.

Malfoy's body was covering hers in an instant and she was clinging to him just as there was a second flash of light.

"What was that?" She asked, sounding hysterical even to herself. Malfoy hid her body completely as he lifted his head to the window and he reached for his wand. His voice was dark and angry as he said, "I think it was a camera."

Hermione's blood ran cold. "A _what_?"

"Take this," Malfoy bent down and tossed his forgotten shirt at her. She pulled it on as quickly as possible. It drowned her, reaching her knees, enveloping her in the smell of leather and pine and _Malfoy_. She rushed after him, just in time to catch someone on a broomstick flying away, their cloak billowing behind them.

 **HIM**

He was going to kill the Malfoy brat for touching her.

It was a shame that he'd be spilling pure blood into the dirt.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter my darlings.

This chapter is rated M, I know, I'm sorry, more smut. You've been warned.

Chapter Eight

"I'm not leaving."

"Malfoy, I'm fine," she lied. She was _not_ fine. She was not fine _at all._ Someone had been outside of her apartment. Watching as Malfoy…. Took pictures as Malfoy had kissed her! Intimately. She flushed just thinking about it. She pulled Malfoy's shirt tighter around herself, feeling terribly exposed in the dim light of her kitchen. Malfoy had been furiously casting spells around her apartment and she'd been too shocked to stop him. Once he'd started talking about going to the ministry in the morning, she'd told him to leave. He hadn't reacted well. He'd snapped _I'm not leaving,_ and _are you out of your bloody mind?_

"You most certainly are _not_ fine," he said harshly. "You're shaking, Granger."

She tried to still her fingers by tightening them around herself. She swallowed. "Did you cast a illusion charm on the window?"

"I did," He said, "but I'm going to go do the rest of your windows. Make yourself some more tea, try to stop shaking. I don't want to hear any more of this 'leave' bullshite when I get back." He strode from the room in only his trousers, the glow from the light highlighting the muscles of his broad back. Had she not been so terrified of what had just happened, she would've sighed in delight at the sight.

She rolled up the white sleeves of the shirt to her elbows and finished buttoning it so that she was completely covered. She did as he asked, making some tea, staring blankly out the window. Someone had flown outside her home, spying on her. Had possibly been watching her for some time. She felt a flare of anger at the thought.

"Granger."

Hermione jumped and spun. Malfoy stood in the doorway, watching her carefully, his arms hanging at his sides, wand dangling in his hand.

"Yes?"

"Where's your bedroom?"

She tensed. "Are you _really_ thinking about that right now?"

"No," Malfoy shot her an amused look. He strode forward, grabbing her wrist, tugging her towards him. She let him, but was shocked when he brushed his lips across her forehead. "Of course not. I want to cast some extra spells in there. And then we're going to sleep."

Her eyes shot up. " _What_?"

"I said 'we're going to sleep'. Honestly Granger, I just had you spread across your kitchen counter with my head between your thighs and you're shocked that I want to sleep here tonight?"

"Well," she pursed her full lips together, "I didn't expect you to _stay_ after…. That."

"You still would've had trouble getting me to leave had we not been interrupted," he eyed her hungrily. "But, since we _were_ interrupted, I'm sleeping here. Bring your tea."

"There's no need to talk to me like a child," she grumbled, reaching for her tea. She started to walk towards her room. "Sleep on the couch," she tossed over her shoulder.

He laughed. "Not a chance."

She frowned at him, but didn't argue. She was rather glad he argued with her. She didn't think she could sleep by herself tonight. She opened the door to her room and walked inside, glancing around quickly to make sure it was clean. Her cream comforter was a bit rumpled, there was a pillow on the floor, and her nightstand had an enormous stack of books that she'd been reading at night to help her sleep.

She stood in the middle of her room, unsure what to do. Malfoy took a few steps towards her and she tensed, but he moved past her to the window, waving his wand and muttering charms. Once he was finished, he walked to the opposite side of the bed and set his wand on the nightstand. He made his way towards her.

His hands came up to frame her face and she froze. He brushed his thumb against her cheek, saying, "you ready to sleep, Granger?"

She blinked and took a deep breath. "Yes?"

He chuckled, leaning to press his lips softly against hers. "I'll find whoever that was," he murmured, his tone dangerous, "I'm going to keep you safe."

"Malfoy," she said softly, "I'm not yours."

He smiled at her. "Granger, that's where you're wrong."

Malfoy's lips were on her neck and his hips were pressed against hers. His words had made her react ferociously, crashing her lips to his, clinging to his shoulders. Hermione had never felt… wanted by someone, and Malfoy's words had awoken some fierce need in her.

He reacted just as fiercely as she had, throwing her to the bed and covering her body with his. He was murmuring against her skin as he kissed her, saying things like _Granger, you're going to be the death of me,_ and _fuck._

His fingers were working the buttons off of her shirt, his mouth sucking on the juncture of her neck. " _Malfoy_ ," she moaned.

"You taste so good Granger," he nipped at her neck and pushed the shirt off of her, sucking her nipple lightly, then blowing on it. He started to work his trousers off, kicking them away and moving on top of her until their bodies were pressed against each other. His cock slid across her heat, brushing her clit and prodding her entrance. She wiggled her hips and he slid up her once more. She whimpered as his lips pressed against hers. He tugged her bottom lip with his teeth.

He pulled back, looking down at their bodies, where he was sliding against her, the soft glow of the moon on illuminating their skin. Malfoy took her nipple in his mouth once more, sucking hard. She moaned loudly, her hands tugging at his hair, pulling him back up to her mouth.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he pressed his lips to hers and she wiggled her hips in an attempt to get him inside her. Merlin, he was big. Big enough that her eyes widened when she looked down. She bit her lip, wondering if this was such a good idea now. He didn't give her any time to think. He lined himself up with her, sealed his mouth over hers, and surged his hips forward.

"Ow!"

He stopped immediately. "Granger?"

"Just… give me a sec."

"I'll do my best." He looked pained, hair hanging in his eyes, sweat glistening his skin.

"I haven't done this-"

"Were you a virgin!?" He gaped at her.

She glared up at him. "If you had let me finish," she snarled, "I was going to say that I haven't done this very often."

"How many times."

She looked away, and he moved his hips back, easing them forward, "Tell me."

"I've only done this three times, okay?"

Something dark and possessive came over his eyes. "Were they very good?" He moved his hips, grinding so that he was hitting her clit. Her eyes slid shut. He chuckled darkly, "were they any good Granger?"

"I'm not answering that."

Her words were met with a punishing slam of his hips and she cried out, her back arching beneath him. "Answer me." he growled. "Were they as good as me? Don't you dare lie to me, Granger, I'll know if you do."

"No," she gasped as he pulled out slowly and rolled his hips once more. "They weren't."

"Good," he rolled them over so that she was straddling him. "Just in case," he bounced her on his lap and she cried out. "This is one of the deepest ways I can take you. Did you know that Granger? After tonight, I don't even want you to remember the names of anyone that came before me."

She was worried he was right.

He sat up so that they were face to face, her hands clinging to his shoulders as he kissed her softly. She hesitantly rose her hips and he groaned into her mouth. She moved slowly at first, until she found a rhythm. She'd never been on top before; she liked to be in charge in every aspect of her life, but had never had the confidence to take charge in bed. She'd always wanted someone that would take control in that aspect since she was so inexperienced. The past two men she'd been with had been as unpracticed as she had and the sex had been boring.

Malfoy was anything but. He leaned down to catch her breast in his mouth as she writhed on top of him, so close. He kissed his way back up to her neck and sucked on the juncture of her shoulder, scraping his teeth along her skin as he pulled back. "Malfoy," she was nearly sobbing, "please. _Please_."

"Come on baby," his hands were on her waist now and he was working himself inside her from beneath her in hard strokes. "Come for me, Granger."

She cried out and he flipped her once more onto her back, kicking the comforter completely onto the floor as he slammed into her. He growled into her neck as he came, the headboard hitting the wall as he surged his hips into hers. He slowed, raining kisses on her skin, praising her. She grinned stupidly at her ceiling.

He stopped and lifted his head. He gave her a real, genuine smile, one that she'd never seen before, but wished she had. His hair was a messy halo around his face, a bit of it sticking up from where she'd had it gripped in her hands. His eyes were like molten silver and he was so unbelievably perfect to her in that moment. He leaned away from her and she watched him as he grabbed his wand.

"What're you doing?" She asked as he waved it over her stomach, muttering a spell.

"Contraception charm," he gave her a goofy smile that had her insides twisting happily, "I'd forgotten to do it before… I wasn't prepared for this turn of events. I'd meant it when I said we were just going to sleep."

He crawled up next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her black flush against his front. She wet her lips, staring at the wall. She'd never slept in the same bed as someone… she was worried by how much she liked it.

...

She sat up, alone. The sheet covering her fell and she scrambled to pull it back over her chest, glancing at the window. The skies were a soft gray and her room was still rather dark, but the glass showed only the London skyline, much to her relief. She pushed her mane of curls out of her face.

That bastard had left before she'd woken up. He'd made a big raging deal about sleeping at her flat and then had left! She stood, holding the sheet around herself, determined to take a shower and think of different hexes to use on Malfoy.

"Granger."

She jumped, spinning to find said bastard leaning against her doorframe in only his boxers, arms folded across his chest. She pulled the sheet tighter around herself. Maybe she wouldn't hex him.

"Yes?"

"We got a patronus from Potter," he said, "there's been another attack and we're needed at the ministry."

"What else did he say?" She hurried towards the bathroom, dragging the sheet along behind her.

Malfoy followed her into the bathroom. "Just that there's been another attack, similar to the last one. There's something bothering me about this," he leaned against her sink as she turned on the shower, "we were put on this case _weeks_ ago. You and I have watched weeks go between the first three murders, and now two within a matter of days?"

She turned to him. "You think there's some inciting incident that's leading to the murders?"

He rubbed at his jaw, "Granger, I don't think that was just some reporter from Witch Weekly outside your window."

Her blood ran cold. "You _cannot_ be serious."

"I am," he took a step towards her, "Granger, I think that this… _psychopath_ has latched his attention on you. As I said before, you're the most famous muggleborn witch in the world, you fought Voldemort, and you're brilliant- not to mention lovely. He's likely obsessed with you, and at the _least_ you're a target. Things have only happened between us this last week, the week where things escalated. "

"Malfoy you can't be suggesting that what's happening between us has any effect on this case," she said stubbornly.

"At the very least, this killer has shown an interest you. Starting with that letter," he snarled, "which we will be discussing with Potter. Today."

The steam was starting to fog up the room. She glanced at the shower. "We'll talk about this later," she said, "I'm going to shower."

"I'll be back here in a minute with some clothes," he said. He headed for the door, then turned, "unless you want me to join you?"

She felt heat pooling between her legs and she swallowed. Shaking her head, she turned for the glass door, saying, "no, go get dressed. Harry's probably waiting for us."

He laughed and left the room. Hermione dropped the sheet when she heard the floo activate, kicking it back into her room. She thought about what Malfoy said as the water hit her. Could her … _relationship_ with Malfoy have some sort of effect on this case? She rubbed at her eyes. She felt sore all over. And now she had to face Harry.

After spending the night rolling around in her sheets with Draco Malfoy.

 _Godric_ , what had she done? And why did she want to do it again?

She shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself, and padding towards her dresser. She pulled out the top drawer and frowned down at her underwear drawer. She'd always been on the more conservative side, with plain, typical white panites and bras. She dug around a bit until she found the unused set Ginny had bought for her birthday last year. It was much racier than anything she owned, Gryffindor red and cut so that it showed off her body in the best way. Just looking at it made her blush as red as the fabric in her hands.

She was slipping on her panties when she realized something. Was she really putting on special underwear in case Malfoy made another pass at her? She clutched the lacy bra in her hand, staring accusingly at it, as if the fancy lingerie was to blame.

She heard her floo sound. Cursing, she hurried and yanked the bra on, snapping the clasp just as Malfoy called her name. "One moment!" She called.

He was already in her doorway, "Wow." He eyed the underwear set with a smirk. He strode towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Where was _that_ last night?"

"You showered fast," she said.

He walked her backwards to the wall, "That I did," his eyes dipped to admire her chest. The bra really did lovely things to her; she'd always been rather curvy in the chest and hips area, but she'd been blessed with a decently small waist. One that Malfoy's fingers were pressed against. His eyes scanned her, falling on her neck, brightening with interest and before she could say anything, he was covering her, catching her mouth with his own. She moaned as he yanked her up, her legs going around his waist. He pulled his head back.

"I'm taking these off later," he growled, nudging her bra strap aside with his nose, planting a kiss on her shoulder, "but we need to leave."

She let go of him, landing shakily on her feet. "Right!" She was filled with a sense of urgency as she rushed into her closet. She grabbed a black pencil skirt and a red silk blouse, rushing back into the room. Malfoy was sitting on her bed, watching her rush to get ready, smiling in amusement. She frowned at him. His eyebrows shot up and he grinned. She rolled her eyes and turned to grab her skirt, bending over to step into it, sliding it up her legs. She heard him groan. She zipped up the skirt, glancing over her shoulder to see Malfoy's pained expression.

"Granger you have an arse that could put a man on his knees," he said.

She smiled a little to herself as she pulled on her shirt, tucking it into her skirt. She grabbed her wand and dried her hair, then muttered a smoothing charm on her hair. It fell down her back in glossy curls. The spell only lasted for so long, then her hair would crackle with electricity and magic, frizzing up around her face. She started to twist it into a bun and Malfoy pushed to his feet, pulling her hands from her hair. "Leave it down." It sounded like an order.

She rose an eyebrow at him, but dropped her hands, going to find her shoes.

"Do you want to side along apparate?" He asked.

"Why not," she grabbed her bag and hurried into her kitchen to grab the files off of her table. Malfoy watched her move, silent, and Hermione noticed him glancing at her window once or twice. She herself couldn't stop glancing at the counter and blushing, thinking about what had happened last night.

She glanced at Malfoy, leaning against her kitchen door, watching her with dark, silver eyes. _I'm going to keep you safe_ , he'd said. Who was going to keep her safe from him?

 **Malfoy**

When Granger had asked him to accompany her to the Weasley's, Malfoy- like a true Slytherin- had capitalized on the opportunity. He'd found her devastatingly attractive and the chance to trick her into going on a date with him was something he _would not_ pass up. And then, tipping off the Witch Weekly reporter so that their date would be publicized, opening Granger's eyes to the possibility of a relationship with him. The flirting had made her blush at first, but he'd been delighted when she'd eventually started to banter with him, showing off that sexy wit in the best way. He'd waited a year for her to respond, and she finally was.

Hermione Granger was going to be his witch. He'd decided it a year ago, and his plans were finally starting to pay off.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine...

Warning: More smut.

I'm sorry.

I can't help myself. Draco and Hermione are on _fire._

Bandit xx

 **Chapter Nine**

They apparated into an alleyway, behind _Flourish and Blotts_. In the distance Hermione could see the aurors casting spells on the area as Harry directed them. Malfoy kept his hand on her back, steering her down the alley, leaning down to speak in her ear, "pull your hair over your right shoulder."

She turned, "what?"

"You have a rather large love bite on your shoulder," she could hear the smirk in his voice. "I apologize for that, by the way."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she hissed, moving her hair, "you saw it earlier, didn't you?!"

His smile was wicked.

"You're impossible!" She huffed, hurrying forward so that his hand dropped off of her back as she reached Harry.

"Hermione," Harry greeted her, eyeing Malfoy over her shoulder, "did you bring him with you?"

"I happened to hear your patronus, Potter," Malfoy drawled, standing at her shoulder, "and considering I am on the case as well, I figured that I should accompany Granger."

Harry eyed the blonde. He adjusted his glasses, frowning at the pair of them, turning to Hermione, "I sent you my patronus an hour ago to your flat Hermione," he said accusingly, "what was he doing there that early in the morning?"

Malfoy grinned wolfishly. Hermione's face was on fire. "As it so happens, Potter," Malfoy said, "Something happened at Granger's flat last night that we need to discuss with you later. It pertains to the case."

"We'll discuss it later," he shot a questioning look at Hermione before turning to the mess in front of him, "If you want to take a magical scan of the body, you can," he said to Hermione, "you know, for your files."

"A magical scan of the body?" Hermione's eyes lit with excitement and interest.

"It's a charm the aurors use," Harry said, his colleagues scrambling to get out of his way as he strode towards the body. Harry never realized it, but he had a presence that could move mountains. "It takes a complete scan of the body."

"I have to go," Malfoy said at her shoulder. He apparated mid stride.

"Where did he run off to?"

Hermione stared at the empty place where Malfoy had just stood. "I have an idea…" she said slowly, "but I don't think it matters right now. Show me the body and how to do the charm."

Elizabeth Davis looked much like Bethany Rideout, the girl that had been discovered earlier that week. Her body hovered off the ground as a young auror with mousy features cast spells as he examined her. A crude _E_ had been carved all over her skin. Hermione felt her heart swell with anger and sadness as she looked at the victim, this girl that had her live stolen from her.

"Is she muggleborn?"

"Well, yes," an auror near her answered, narrowing her eyes in confusion, "how did you know?"

Hermione's eyes didn't leave the body as she answered, "I'm with the Investigation Department."

"Hermione, there was another letter," Harry interrupted.

Hermione spun on her best friend. "Where?"

"I've had it sent back to your office," Harry ran his hand through his messy hair. "We couldn't open it."

"What do you mean you _couldn't_ open it?" She demanded.

Harry stared blankly at the body in front of him. "It's cursed shut. You and Malfoy will have to try to figure it out."

She nodded. "The letters in my office?"

"Yes."

"Send over the notes on this spell and the results of what they find."

He didn't have time to answer before she apparated away.

 **...  
**

"Granger!" Malfoy rushed towards her in the hall. Before she could say anything, he had grabbed her hand and pulled her into his office, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Malfoy, what on earth-"

He grabbed her upper arms, cutting her off, "I just discovered that Auror Steinbeck took a magical scan of the _all_ the victims!" Malfoy said excitedly. "He's sending me the files and notes about the charms this very moment. If there's a mark on the bodies, we'll be able to find them."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Malfoy, that's brilliant!"

His face broke into a wide, dazzling smile, his silver eyes twinkling. She found herself smiling back at him, her excitement flushing her cheeks. His gaze dipped to her lips and in a moment, he had her pressed against the wall, his hands in her hair, mouth falling onto hers.

Her head knocked against the wall and she laughed into his mouth. He smiled and took a step forward, pressing her against the wall, his body flush with hers. His teeth tugged on her lip making her sigh. She reached up and buried her fingers in his hair. He groaned, his hands finding her waist, tugging her even closer. He dragged his lips down the side of her throat, teeth grazing her pulse. Her hands found his shoulders, her short nails digging into him, his muscles rolling beneath her fingertips as he reached for her legs and effortlessly lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and his hips pressed against hers.

Hermione moaned when his member rubbed against her. He made a sound deep in his throat and bit her at the junction of her neck and shoulder. She turned her head and caught his ear with her teeth and tugged, rubbing her tongue along it.

" _Fuck_ Granger," he hissed.

"Malfoy," she said, his name sounding like a moan, "we're _working_. We can't do this here. It's unprofessional."

He reached for her hands and pinned them above her head. "Fuck professional. I told you I'd be taking those panties off of you, didn't I?"

She laughed, her head falling back. His other hand was pushing up her skirt and she didn't stop him as his fingers rubbed her through her panties. They were totally soaked in seconds. He groaned his approval.

"Malfoy, this is really inappropriate."

"You can stop me at any moment," his nose ran down the side of her neck.

She said nothing and he took this as a sign of triumph, pushing her panties to the side, sliding one finger deep inside her.

" _Salazar_ ," he cursed. "You're so wet, Granger."

She moaned at his filthy words. He caught her eyes and added a second finger, his forehead falling until it rested against hers. Silver eyes clashed with dark whiskey ones and Malfoy curled his fingers, making Hermione squirm.

"Want me to stop?" He asked, pressing his thumb against her clit.

"You're," she panted, "a prat Malfoy."

He chuckled and caught her lips with his. He tasted like mint, his lips soft and warm, his fingers making her want to thrash her head. Her fingers tightened on him and he removed his fingers, making her whimper. He laughed. He muttered another spell and her panties disappeared. She heard the sound of his zipper. She should stop him.

"Granger, have I ever told you you're stunning?"

She wasn't going to stop him.

"You could've mentioned it," she sighed as his thumb brushed her nipple over her shirt.

"I am now," he growled into her throat, positioning his cock at her entrance. His hips slammed forward. She cried out, head hitting the wall once more. For a moment she wondered if those outside of the room could hear them. Fuck, did they even lock the door?

"Malfoy," she said with a cry.

"Call me Draco."

" _Draco_ ," she said, then, "is the door locked?"

He pulled his head back to stare in disbelief at her. "I am _inside_ you," he emphasised this with a hard thrust of his hips that had her gasping, "fucking you against the wall of my office and you're asking me if the door is locked?"

She frowned at him.

He rolled his eyes. "You're impossible," he ran his hands down her sides, then reached up and tweaked her nipple, rolling his hips. He leaned back from her, and reached for his wand, casting a spell at the door. He looked back at her and pressed his lips to her neck, muttering something against her skin. She felt magic spread across her skin and she moaned so loud she was ashamed to say she could be one of those witches in those filthy magical pornography magazines that the twins used to keep under the floorboards in their room.

It was like a warm heat exploded in her stomach. She cried out as she came and Malfoy groaned, his hips slamming forward as her walls spasmed around him. " _Malfoy_ ," She panted as the warmth started to build again, her walls fluttering around him. She was going to come again and he'd barely moved. "What did you just do?"

"I cast a lust charm on you," his hips rolled forward and he reached up, his thumb brushing her bottom lip, "I also thought I told you, call me _Draco._ "

She caught his thumb with her teeth and he groaned. His eyes fell to watch as he moved inside her. "Draco," she whispered and his head snapped up, white hair messy and in his eyes. His eyes darkened, a possessive look coming over him. He grabbed her waist and pressed his lips to hers, hips moving in the most incredible way. She started to make soft noises into his mouth. The warmth rushed over her all the way to her fingers and she was so close to coming again that she desperately moved her hips.

"Come on baby," he growled into her mouth. "Come for me."

His words sent her tumbling over the edge. She came, biting his lip to stop herself from screaming, and he grunted his release, hips stuttering. " _Hermione_." He whispered against her lips.

She almost came again.

His head fell to rest on her shoulder and he let out a shaky breath against her skin. He pulled back from her and carefully lowered her to the ground, reaching for his wand to cast cleaning spells on the both of them. She adjusted her clothes, fixing her skirt, remembering that he'd charmed away her underwear. "Malfoy," she started firmly, "we need to establish some rules."

"Like?" He sounded incredibly chipper.

"First, you can't keep stealing my underwear!"

"I'll buy you more."

"Second, you can't just… _attack_ me at work!"

He looked amused. "You say that as if you didn't just enjoy yourself. Repeatedly."

She flushed a dark shade of red and pushed her hair back from her face. "Thirdly, I… I need some clarity, Malfoy. I like things black and white. So tell me, what are we doing?"

"We're together, Granger," he said firmly, grabbing her wrist and tugging her into his chest, "and that means that we're going to continue to work together, to have lunch together, and I'm going to fuck you at every opportunity I get," he looked around his office, "including at work, if the opportunity presents itself."

"You say everything as if it's finalized."

"I'm not hearing any objections."

She sighed. "I suppose you're not. And now that that's… settled… can we get back to work?"

"Of course," he turned and moved towards his chair. Hermione remained standing and he raised an eyebrow at that.

"I have to go back to my office."

He frowned at her, twirling his wand between his fingers as he leaned back in his chair. "Whatever for? We always work here."

"Harry delivered some files about the case," she adjusted her skirt once more, checking to make sure that her shirt was completely tucked in, and totally buttoned, "apparently there was another letter, and they were unable to open it."

Malfoy shot up in his seat. "There was _another_ letter? I'm telling you Granger, you need to be careful."

She pressed her lips together. "I _am_ careful," she mumbled to herself as she left the room. She hurried down the hall and into her office. There was a stack of files, along with one crisp, red envelope on top. She scooped them into her arms and left, charming her door locked behind her.

Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned, coming face to face with black eyes and a gaunt face. She took a step backwards and tightened her arms around her stack of papers, startled. "Yes?" She asked politely.

"You are Miss Granger, yes?"

"Yes, and you are?"

"Alec," he said, extending his hand, "Alec Rosier."

"Hello," She extended her hand and shook it, "any relation to Evan Rosier?" She asked, shifting her stack of files in her arms, eyeing him carefully. He was tall and well dressed, but his face was pale and there were shadows under his eyes. Not bad looking, just… dark.

"Older brother," he shifted uncomfortably, "I don't like to admit the relation… for obvious reasons…" he cleared his throat, "Actually, I'm approaching you because," he shifted uncomfortably, "I work in the Department of Runes and Symbols, and I see you quite a lot. And I've been working up the nerve… I just wanted to ask you, would you like to have dinner with me?"

She blinked in surprise. "Oh!" She shifted the files once more, "I'd say yes, but I'm seeing someone."

He gave her a small, awkward smile, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Malfoy?"

"Actually, yes," she returned the smile, "May I ask how you know that?"

"Papers," he shrugged, "I figured they were false reports. I heard about how much you disliked each other in school and just assumed… well, no harm done. Let me know if things don't work out between you two, yes?"

She nodded, "of course. It was lovely to meet you."

"Likewise, Granger," he inclined his head in a nod, then turned and strolled away. She frowned, watching him go, trying to remember if she'd ever heard of Alec Rosier. She was positive it was something she would've remembered had it been mentioned to her. She headed back towards Malfoy's office with a frown.

 **HIM**

He knew she'd figure out his letter.

After all, his witch was the brightest of her age.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

Shoutout to Chris,

You're a motherfucker.

Bandit XX

 **Chapter**

The letter went unopened for three days. Hermione was growing impatient, as was Malfoy. They'd taken turns trying to crack the enchantment while the other tried to figure out how to work the body spell so that they could discover new injuries on the past victims. They'd taken their work home with them each night. Malfoy had insisted at staying at her flat- or his- using excuses of safety.

She wasn't complaining.

He sat at her kitchen table now, wearing only a pair of black pajama bottoms and nothing else, his white hair messy from sleep, sipping on a cup of coffee as he made a list of unsuccessful spells as he attempted to open the letter.

She slid into the seat near him, taking a sip of her tea. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead before turning back to his work. He cast another charm. The letter started to smoke at the corner, the paper not quite catching fire, but coming close. He frantically grabbed the nearest stack of papers to smother it. She would've laughed had he not almost destroyed the evidence.

"Malfoy, _please_ try not to set the letter on fire," She said with a pained expression.

" _You_ try something, Granger," he grumbled, reaching for his coffee once more. Hermione had discovered on the first morning he'd spent with her that he was _not_ a morning person- by any means. In fact, she'd had to kick him out of bed. _Literally_. She'd tried to climb out of bed herself the first night he'd slept over, but he wouldn't release her, his arm tightening around her waist with every attempt she made to escape. He'd been very cross to find himself tumbling over the edge and onto the floor.

"Hand it here."

He pushed the red envelope towards her. She took it gingerly between her fingers, rubbing at the tiny scorch in the corner. The paper was still intact, just a bit dark. She'd been trying to find the solution for three days and the lack of an answer was starting to irritate her. Hermione Granger always found answers, so she was going to find this one.

She flipped it in her hands. "I'm going to go to the Ministry library and see if I can find anything there."

"There's the _Know It All_ Granger from school!" Malfoy laughed, "always running to the library!"

"Don't act as if you didn't spend just as much time there as I did," she pointed a finger at him accusingly, "I saw you Malfoy; don't pretend I didn't."

He grinned and rolled his eyes. He turned back to the files in front of him, pulling out the notes Auror Steinbeck had made. He'd figured out how to cast the charm easily enough, the shimmering blue form of the first Victim, Samantha Wright, floating in the middle of Hermione's kitchen. He was currently trying to modify the spell, attempting to change it and do scans for unseen cuts. Hermione had to force herself to focus on the letter or she'd watch him puzzle it out. She was devastatingly attracted to intelligent minds and watching Malfoy use his extensive knowledge of magic was proving distracting for her.

"Should we even bother going into the office?" Malfoy flicked his wand at the image. He frowned in frustration when nothing happened. "All of our files are here."

"We have that meeting with the aurors-"

"-you have that ridiculous rule that we can't fuck at work-"

Hermione snorted. "We have to be at that meeting to discuss the case, Malfoy. We're supposed to show the Minister our progress and we still haven't managed to open that letter," she dropped her face in her hands. "He's going to take me off the case; I'm not living up to the work I usually do, and he's going to find someone _better_ -"

Malfoy barked out a laugh. "There is no one better, you silly witch."

She turned her face in her hands so that she was propped up against the table. She gave him a little smile. "I have to open this letter, Malfoy."

"Well obviously," he said, "but you're going to work on it carefully. Just you. We don't need another 'Malfoy almost set the evidence on fire' incident."

"Well _that_ is true. Start back on that spell."

"Bossy, " he muttered fondly. He turned back to his scan and tried another charm. The body turned in the air, spinning slowly as if it was on a spit over a fire. Malfoy sighed tiredly, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he leaned back in his seat.

"Wait!" Hermione cried, seeing something. Malfoy jumped next to her. She stood and rushed forward, Samantha Wright's hair falling to the side as she spun. "I found it!"

"Where?"

Hermione followed the body crouching as it spun. Malfoy stopped and turned the image so that Samantha's face was pointed towards the floor. Hermione leaned forward and waved Malfoy over.

"The back of her neck, you can just see it through her hair."

Malfoy leaned forward. Sure enough, there was the mark, an ornate _G_ , poorly carved into the girl's skin.

"How did I not notice it?" He frowned down at the mark.

"It was difficult to see with her hair. We now have three letters documented, _A, E,_ and _G_. Age? Aeg? Gae?" she started to work the letters out as an anagram, then shook her head, "this is odd, Malfoy."

He was frowning down at the image, lost in thought. She moved back to the table to make a note of this development, writing, _anagram (?)_ next to it. She glanced up through her hair. Malfoy continued to stare at the body, his shoulders folded across his chest, occasionally tilting his head to look at the victim's neck.

She looked back down, the copy of the first letter catching her eye. She reread it. _Solve my puzzle_ … she looked down at the second letter, folded and hidden in that red envelope, glaring up at her.

She made a second note; _first letter key to second letter (?)_ She touched the red letter, tapping her finger against it, staring hard. She would have to research sealing charms when she got to the library. She glanced at the clock on her wall, she only had so much time before her meeting.

"I'm going to go get dressed," she said, heading for her room. She was stopped as Malfoy snagged her around the waist.

"I rather like my shirts on you," he eyed the button down she was wearing. She'd swiped it off the floor this morning before going into the kitchen.

She grinned but pulled herself out of his reach, "we're going to be late."

He grumbled but turned back to the files, waving his wand over them so that they'd fly into a neat stack, the morbidly red letter falling on the very top. Hermione hurried to her closet, pulling on a black skirt and dark green blouse, sliding on a pair of simple black flats. Malfoy was waiting for her at the floo, having let to change and return. Her bag was on the floor near his feet, the files shrunk and orderly, the tops barely poking from the top.

"I'll meet you for the meeting," she grabbed her bag, stepping into the floo.

"Don't be late," he drawled, "I'll avada myself if I have to sit with Potter alone for even a moment."

She rolled her eyes, grabbing a handful of floo powder. She tossed it down and in a roar of green fire, her living room disappeared, the library materializing through the smoke. She stepped carefully into the Ministry Library.

The bookshelves towered over her and she took a deep breath, the smell of paper and ink greeting her.

…

Hermione rushed down the hall, turned the corner, and crashed right into Malfoy. He caught her and grinned, then said, "you were almost late."

"Almost is not 'late' Malfoy," she said but couldn't help smiling, "are they inside?"

"Potter said to come in the minute you got here," he said, then asked, "did you find a way to open the letter?"

"I might have!" She said excitedly, "I'll tell you later. I haven't had the opportunity to try the spell yet."

He ushered her into the conference room. Kingsley and Harry sat around an oval table along with three other aurors. Hermione and Malfoy took a seat at empty chairs.

Harry stood, faced the room, and rubbed self consciously at his scar. He met Hermione's eyes with an apologetic look and in that moment she knew what he was going to say.

"We're going to take you off the case, Hermione."

"You can't be serious, Harry." She snapped.

Harry glanced at the minister- who looked uncomfortable- then turned back to Hermione, "That letter was alarming. He addressed you _personally_."

"Which is why I should remain working! I'm your strongest asset and you know it." She worked to keep her voice from becoming shrill. "You cannot take me off of this case."

"He's attacking muggleborn witches," he stressed, "you can't ignore this!"

She barely stopped herself from standing as well. "I'm _not_ ignoring it. My heritage makes me a target already. He's shown an interest in me _already_. There's nothing we can do about it now except continue to work."

"She has a point Potter," Malfoy leaned back in his chair, twiddling with his wand, looking bored, "she knew that the symbols on the body were letters, when _you_ didn't, and you want to take her off the case? Who's going to solve this bloody murder if Granger is gone? Me? _You_?"

Harry looked irritated at this outburst. "Listen here Malfoy-"

"Enough," Kingsley's baritone voice commanded silence, "considering that there is not much else we can do, Hermione will continue to work with Malfoy on the investigation team, but will have Aurors watching her at all times," at Hermione's noise of protest, the Minister said, " _At all times._ Now, let us go over your notes."

…

Hermione stared down at the letter, glancing at her notes. She took a deep breath, placed her wand against the tip of her finger, and whispered, " _revelare._ " She winced as a shallow cut appeared, a tiny bead of blood bubbling up from her skin. She pressed her bleeding finger to the letter and the air shimmered around the letter before disappearing. She glanced at the door. Malfoy would be back with coffee any minute.

She took a deep breath, and tore the envelope open. A folded slip of paper fell from the envelope, and- to her horror- a photograph. She pressed her hand to her mouth as she lifted it to her face.

The picture was magical, the figures moving without a care in the world. The moonlight lit up their pale skin. Hermione watched herself as she writhed on the counter in the photograph, her back arched, Malfoy's blonde hair between her thighs.

A tear slid down her cheek. She'd known someone had been there- had taken this- but to see it….She felt rage and shame flood her as she hid the picture in her bag.

She picked up the letter, wiped her eyes, and started to read.

 _Miss Granger,_

 _There was no doubt in my mind you would crack the secret to this letter._

 _I send you this photograph as a warning._

 _You see, Miss Granger, I will permit this no longer._

 _I own you,_

 _Body and soul._

 _Do not disappoint me._


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine.

 **Warning:** explicit sexual content.

Lemons, people. I mean lemons.

 **Chapter Eleven**

Malfoy sat across from her, holding the letter, scowling as he read. Hermione arranged the files on the desk to calm her racing heart. Finally, he put the letter down. "Where's the picture."

Her head shot up. "What?"

"The photo, Granger. Where is it."

"I put it into my bag." Her cheeks were on fire.

He dropped his face into his hands, rubbing at his eyes, exhaling an angry breath. "I want to see it."

She swallowed. "I'd rather not."

"Granger," he said sharply. She winced and he softened his voice, "it's okay. Let me see it."

She stared at him for a long moment, seeing the tiredness in his face, his hair messy across his forehead from where his fingers had sifted through it. She let out a deep breath and nodded. She knew she was being irrational; Malfoy was _in_ the photo, had seen every bit of her in the last few days, and yet she still felt vulnerable as she summoned her bag, pulling out the photograph. In the picture she was twisting her fingers in Malfoy's white blonde hair, her lips muttering nonsense, the moon illuminating her naked body spread across her counter. Her cheeks were on fire as she handed it over.

Malfoy picked it up, rubbing at his jaw as he looked at it, eyes dark and angry. "I'm going to kill him."

"Not if I do it first," she said fiercely.

He glanced up at her. "We're going to catch him, Granger. I promise."

"We can't see each other anymore." She blurted.

His eyes narrowed, "What are you on about Granger?"

She looked down at the letter and his eyes followed hers. "Fucking hell," he stood and strode around his desk, crouching down in front of her chair, "we are _not_ listening to this man. If we start taking his orders, what else is he going to force us to do? I meant what I said, you're _mine_."

"Stop that!" Her voice was shrill. "I'm not his, I'm not yours! I no one's, do you hear me?"

He frowned up at her. "Hermione," her first name startled her, "I do not own you. I wasn't implying it; I simply meant I'm as much yours as you are mine. I'm in this for you until _you_ decide you don't want me around."

She nodded. She hated to admit it… but she liked the sound. Malfoy being hers. Hermione had never paid much attention to romance; her focusses had been academic. If Malfoy had never made such strong advances towards her, she'd be going home to her lonely flat. Now, she couldn't picture it. Godric, they'd only been a couple for a few days and already she felt fiercely attached to him. The idea of letting him go had been gut wrenching. She should've figured he'd talk her out of it.

The more Hermione thought, the more she realized that Malfoy had been a permanent part of her life for some time. For the last year he'd found her about the office everyday to banter with her, and had eventually insisted they work on cases together in his office. He'd been chasing her attention for a year and she'd just played it off.

...

"Strip, Granger."

She looked up from her book. She'd been sitting in the armchair in front of his fireplace, reading quietly as he'd cleaned up after dinner. He'd taken off his jacket and loosened his tie, his sleeves rolled to his elbows.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, take off your clothes." There was a hint of a smirk to his lips.

She marked her place in her book and raised an eyebrow at him. He waited, staring at her, the smirk playing on his lips as if he was challenging her. _I am a Gryffindor_ , she said in her head to give herself courage She pushed to her feet and unzipped her skirt. She let it slide down her hips and stepped out of it. She unbuttoned her blouse and it fell to the floor. After a swallow, her bra joined the pile of clothes on the floor. Her thumbs hooked in her underwear and he eyed her hungrily, waiting.

She stepped out of them.

He strode towards her and she stood, rooted in place, heart thundering with excitement. To her surprise, he passed her, leaning forward to grab her unfinished book. He held it loosely in his hand and said, "Lay down the couch."

She wet her lips. Malfoy wasn't normally this commanding, tending to steer their encounters with actions, not words. As she laid down on the couch, her head propped up against the armrest, she wondered if she was in over her head with him.

He handed her the book back, then said, "now read. Out loud."

She frowned up at him in confusion. "You want me to read this? The leviathan?"

"That's what I just said."

Unsure of what he was playing at, she opened it to her page and began, " _Again_ _men have no pleasure (but on the contrary a great deal of grief) in keeping company where,"_ she glanced over the top of the book. Malloy was watching her with dark gray eyes as he undid his tie. She cleared her throat, " _where there is no power able to overawe them-_ what are you doing?"

His fingers stroked her bare ankle as he knelt down at the opposite end of the couch, "did I say to stop reading?"

"Well, no-"

"Then continue."

She hesitated for a moment before lifting the book to her eyes, " _for every man looketh that his companion,_ " she jumped as she felt his lips on her knee, his hands gently pulling her legs apart. She continued in a slightly higher octave, " _should value him at the same rate he sets upon himself,"_ she let out a shaky breath as Malfoy gave a suck on the inside of her thigh, " _and upon all signs of contempt of undervaluing naturally endeavors, as far as he d-dares,"_ she stuttered and gasped as he licked her. She continued to read, her voice broken and her words stuttered, gasps filling the empty space. He gave a harsh suck on her clit and vision went blurry. "I've lost my place," she gasped just as his fingers entered her. Her eyes scanned the page but she couldn't remember what she'd been reading.

"Malfoy I can't possibly read like this."

He reached up and grabbed the book from her, tossing it to the ground, "Then don't," he crawled up her body, planting kisses on her skin as he went. Her hands immediately went for his belt, fumbling to get it off as soon as possible. He helped her, kicking off his shoes and pants, grinning into her neck when she made a sound of frustration.

"Merlin, Granger you're a dream," he grinned from above her, eyes scanning her face, down to her chest, hovering at where her hips cradled his. He shifted and entered her hard, his mouth slanting over hers at the same moment, catching her low moan.

His hand slid up her back and tangled in the curls at the base of her neck. He tugged at her hair, his tongue moving in her mouth at the same slow rhythm of his hips. She sighed into the kiss, the warmth curling in her belly, her entire body sensitive to the touch.

She was so close. Just at the edge, hovering there, about to come apart-

Malfoy pulled back from her. "What're you doing?" she pushed herself up onto her elbows, frowning.

"Come here," he sat at the other end of the couch. She continued to frown, but crawled towards him. He settled her on his lap, his eyes roaming her body hungrily, "ride me," he growled, kissing her neck.

With her knees on either side of her waist, she lowered herself down slowly until she was completely atop him, her face against his neck, breaths heavy. He groaned, hands pressing against her waist, gripping her tightly as she rose up slowly, easing back down, her breaths heavy.

"You're so wet, Granger," he brought his hand up to her mouth, fingers resting against her bottom lip. "Open your mouth," he rasped, and then, when she did, "suck."

She hummed as her tongue swirled around the digit. He groaned loudly, then pulled his fingers from her mouth with a _pop_ and moved his hand to rub against her as she moved her hips. "Oh," she dropped her head against his shoulder, "keep doing that."

His fingers pressed against her clit and she cried out. She was so close. If he stopped again, she was going to hex him. When she told him as much, he laughed, saying, "wouldn't dream of it, baby."

His words were the only thing it took to send Hermione hurling over the edge, Malfoy following right behind her.

….

"Granger, I had a thought."

Hermione lifted her head from where it'd been resting on Malfoy's chest. "Yes?"

"I don't think that the killer is attacking muggleborn woman because of prejudice," he toyed with one of her curls as he spoke, "I think that he's fixated his attention on you and the murders are the byproduct."

"What?"

"They're all muggleborn witches, they're all a similar age to you, and we know that he's been following you, and his letters revolve around you."

She rubbed at her eyes, "Malfoy that's ridiculous."

"It's _not_ though," he snapped. "He was outside _your_ apartment, watching us! He killed someone the very next day, has insinuated that your 'his', and has threatened you for seeing me. At the very least he's got an obsession with you and the blood supremacy is a side factor."

"So what do we do?" She said tiredly. "And don't you dare suggest I remove myself from this case."

"After reading that letter, I think Potter might be right." He said. "You shouldn't work this case anymore."

She sat up. After staring at him for a long moment, she climbed out from the bed and started to search for her clothing. "I'm going home."

"You _can't_ be serious," he was out of bed in an instant, yanking on a pair of black boxers.

"I _am_ serious, Malfoy," she snapped finding a shirt and tugging it on, "This is _my_ case. I am the head of the Investigation Department, and I do not need you telling me what I can and cannot handle! Just because we have this thing-" she waved a yanked between the two of them, "between the two of us doesn't mean that you have some kind of control over my decisions."

Malfoy scoffed, "I have never been under the impression that I have any control over you. You're being irrational! This man wants to _kill_ you! Everyone can see it but you! Let go of your bloody pride-"

She grabbed her wand from the bedside table and stormed off, not even staying to listen to his argument.

"Granger," he snarled, chasing her down the hall. "Granger, for the love of Merlin, _stop_."

"I'll see you at the office," she tossed the words angrily over her shoulder. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

She grabbed a handful of floo powder and in a rush of green flames- and a few curses shouted by Malfoy- she was gone.

 **HIM**

Soon he would have her.


	12. Chapter 12

Guys. I am so sorry that this has taken so long to post. It was finals week and my birthday...

But here's a chapter.

Chapter

The first thing she did when she stepped into her living room was put up a ward so that no one could enter through the floo. Malfoy wasn't the kind of man to just let her walk away but she couldn't deal with him right now. She needed to think; her thoughts were muddled by anger and she strode into the kitchen. Crookshanks was curled upon one of the chairs surrounding the table, his great orange head lifting as Hermione flicked on the lights with her wand, yawning loudly in protest.

She set to making herself a cup of tea, hoping the activity would give her mind something to focus on. Once she had her kettle boiling, she turned to her table, the sight of stacks of paper and two empty coffee cups greeting her. Too wound up to sleep, she approached the table, gripping the back of a chair and leaning forward to gaze at the bright red envelope resting atop the mess.

The spot where she'd bled on the paper was dark and splotching. Hermione was stubborn but she wasn't stupid; Malfoy had a point. After the picture, she could no longer deny that the killer had his sights on her. Whether he intended to turn her into a victim or had other plans for her… she was in danger.

But that didn't mean that she was going to hide; she was going to find the son of a bitch. She pulled Malfoy's notes from the morning towards her and began to read. The letters on the bodies had continued to pull at her, flashing in her mind. She knew they meant something, that they were instrumental in the case. _A E G._ She knew that the killer wasn't finished and intended to add more letters to the puzzle and more victims to his roster.

She was not going to let that happen.

There was a tap upon her kitchen window and she jumped so violently that the stack of papers balanced at the edge of the table tumbled to the ground. A sleek black owl sat perched upon her windowsill, a crisp white letter clutched in its beak. Hermione opened the window and the creature eased inside, letting Hermione take the letter, her name scrawled in sharp, slanted cursive across the back. She would recognize the penmanship anywhere; she dropped Malfoy's letter on the counter and searched for an owl treat.

Once Malfoy's bird was fed and on its flight home, she took a seat at the table and opened the letter.

 _Granger,_

 _Take down your wards._ _I don't care that you're upset_ _I do care Granger, forget that last bit. That's why I want you to take a step back from the case. I'm going bloody mad worrying about your safety. He was at your_ _house,_ _Granger. Watching us. You're the smartest witch I've ever met- take this seriously. Please. If not for your safety, for my sanity._

 _Open your floo._

 _Malfoy._

Hermione stared for a long time at the letter, reading the line _I do care, Granger_ over and over. Her annoyance- and resolve- were melting away by the second. She could handle herself but she rather liked that someone was worried about _her_ for once.

She tapped her fingers against the table once and one look at the red envelope on her table had her standing and heading towards her fireplace.

...

The fourth body was missing its eyes. Two holes gaped up at Hermione as she tried to push away her instinct to gag as she leaned closer. This body had a sharp _R_ slashed all over the girl's exposed arms. Hermione could see blood seeping from beneath her shirt where the same marks covered her stomach.

"First the symbols now the _eyes_?" Harry shook his head in disbelief, "can it get any worse?"

Hermione and Malfoy shared a look. They'd decided to keep the photograph just between them for now. Hermione knew that if Harry (or Ron) found out, they'd demand all of the details and might even fight to have the letter put into evidence. Draco was adamant that that would _not_ be happening. Hermione had been relieved.

"Have the pair of you got any leads yet?" Harry turned to Hermione, eyes dark with stress.

"We're working on it, Potter."

Harry nodded absentmindedly, staring blankly down at the body. "Four in a manner of weeks," he muttered, "and we have no leads."

"Actually Potter," Malfoy drawled, "I was going to ask you if we could consult with someone on the case."

Hermione's head snapped up. He hadn't mentioned this to her.

"Who?"

Malfoy's face was grim.

….

Lucius Malfoy looked dreadful.

His thinning gray hair hung around his gaunt face. He was filthy, clothes hanging off his thin frame, all signs of the regal, arrogant man gone. He stared harshly at his son, who ignored him, pulling a roll of parchment towards himself. Hermione sat ramrod straight in her seat, the tension in the air making her nervous.

"So," the elder Malfoy finally rasped, "this is what it takes for my son to visit me?"

"I'm not here to visit you," Malfoy said coldly, "I'm here to discuss something with you."

He waved his wand, summoning the crime scene photos, pushing them towards his father. Lucius eyed his son for a moment more before leaning forward. He stared at them for a long moment. "What is it you want?" he hissed.

"We wanted to get your opinion," Hermione answered when Malfoy stayed silent at her side. "Four muggle born women have been murdered. We want to know if you know of anyone that would be capable of this."

"Miss Granger," Lucius drawled, "I should've expected you. You always seem to be at the center of… unfortunate circumstances, if I recall?" His gray eyes fell to her arm in a mocking stare.

The scar on Hermione's arm seemed to burn. She straightened her shoulders, "I have no interest in bantering with you Lucius," the corner of Malfoy's lips tilted up in the slightest hint of a smile, "if you wish to talk to your son, then cooperate and he might consider it," Malfoy's smile fell, "but I need to know if you know of anyone that would commit these crimes."

Lucius Malfoy leaned back in his chair, eyebrow raising. He brought his cuffed, chained wrists and dropped them onto the table, the iron clanging noisily. "My son could've answered this question for you," he said, "he was involved very heavily in the Dark Lord's plans for sometime."

Malfoy's face turned dark. "Do you have anything useful to say, Father?" his face had gone from cold to icy.

"They never found Lestrange, I assume?"

"Rodolphus Lestrange was killed during capture," Hermione said. There had been dispute about the death of Lestrange; some had even insinuated the death had been faked by a young auror in an attempt to gain recognition. The claims were never looked into, though even Hermione had been suspicious.

"Someone may be copying his methods," Lucius's lips pulled into a sinister grin, "Rodolphus had a strong… interest in young muggleborn women. Such as yourself, Miss Granger. I do believe he was your biggest fan."

"That's enough," Malfoy snapped.

Lucius's eyes lit with curiosity. "Defending her son? I thought I taught you better than that." He eyed Hermione, "unless you're taking after Rodolphus and find the mudblood pretty?"

"Use that word again, and I'll make sure that you never leave your cell again," Malfoy's eyes were dark, "no visitors, no company except for the dementors floating past your bars."

"You've been fucking her, haven't you?" Lucius's eyes went mad with suspicion. "After all I taught you? You're a _fool_ boy! If you taint the Malfoy line-"

"Draco," Hermione turned to Malfoy. His hand was clutching his wand and a red spark had flown from the tip. "I want you to leave."

" _What_?"

She reached for his parchment, "I want to speak to your father alone. Please. He's not going to cooperate so long as you're here-"

"If you think I'm going to answer any of your questions-"

"You better know what you're doing," Malfoy cut his father off, giving Hermione a meaningful look before turning to his father. "You discuss only the case," he snapped, "if I find out you hurled so much as _one_ insult at her-"

"It's alright," she urged him towards the door, "I'll be fine."

Malfoy shot one more hateful look at his father before storming out. Hermione turned to face the elder Malfoy, taking the forgotten quill. The room was chilly, the dementors hovering outside the door making the room dark and foreboding. "Lucius," she began, "I don't care to chat with you, I don't. So we're going to talk about this case, or I'm going to leave, and I'm taking your son with me. There will be no more racial slurs, insults, or childish remarks. Am I understood."

"It's a wonder you never became a professor," he smirked, "you would've struck terror into the students."

"I want you to tell me about Lestrange," she said.

Malfoy sucked his cheeks in, looking amused, a bit of his chain sliding off of the table and clattering. "You said he was dead, Miss Granger."

"Just answer my question," she rose an eyebrow.

He smirked at her, reminding her of his son. "Rodolphus liked puzzles; they distracted him from the relationship between his wife and the Dark Lord. Those symbols on the bodies," he tapped a slim finger upon one of the photographs, "these are meant to be letters, yes?"

"We are assuming that, yes."

"This seems like something Rodolphus would do," Malfoy lounged back in his chair, "but since he's dead…I would consider those who were close to him while he was still alive."

Hermione stared down at the name she'd written on the parchment, frowning. She looked up to find him watching her. "Thank you for your help, Mr Malfoy," she moved to stand, gathering her things.

"I can see why he's taken with you," Malfoy surprised her by saying.

"I'm sorry?"

"My son," Lucius's face looked as if he'd just eaten a lemon.

Hermione didn't know what to say, so she turned to leave once more. "I would be careful, Miss Granger. Rodolphus was quite taken with you while alive, and should someone be copying his tactics, he might come after you."

Hermione's lips pressed into a grim line. She nodded and left the room.


End file.
